Tears of the Force
by Valairy Scot
Summary: A late teens ObiWan was mindwiped and lost to the Jedi. Five years later, while saving Queen Amidala, QuiGon Jinn finds both ObiWan and Anakin Skywalker on Tatooine and vows to free both. He is, however, forced to choose between them, when the time comes
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Oh, Force, oh merciful, Force! I thought the shock would kill me, after all these years.

I knew he was there. I don't know how I knew it, for I didn't sense him through the Force, but as surely as I was standing there in shock, trying to breathe, I knew my padawan was down there. Somewhere.

All the old pain came rushing back and I had to clutch at my heart. I could not control this emotion, and the others looked at me. I shook my head and left for a quiet corner to sit, and review the last five years of my life.

Empty, grief-stricken years, all because my padawan had disappeared. He would have been a great Jedi, and his loss was a great loss to the Order and to all the beings whose lives he would have touched, perhaps saved. A great personal loss to me, his master. I loved him.

When I had returned to Coruscant, alone, they all wanted to know why. None of them asked. I wandered the Temple with an empty heart and vacant eyes. They thought they knew why, and wondered why I didn't let my grief at Obi-Wan's death flow into the Force, why I wouldn't allow them to hold a memorial service for him. Even I wondered why, and now I knew – I wasn't sure he was dead. I wasn't sure he was alive. Without knowing, I couldn't let him go.

How he ended up on Tatooine, amongst the Hutts, traders and spacers, in that harsh and unforgiving dry environment – I didn't care. If he remembered his training – I didn't care. If he remembered me, or who he was, for that matter – for that, I did care.

My padawan was there, and I would find him. I would bring him home.

**Chapter 1. The Chosen One is Found**

The Trade Federation had set up a blockade around the planet Naboo. This was most interesting, considering Naboo was neither in the center of the galaxy nor that important to the Trade Federation. This action might have been easily overlooked, but Naboo's Senator Palpatine was a strong voice in the Senate, and he would not let his planet suffer. He fought hard, but he faced indifference and opposition; he hadn't had much luck yet in getting the Senate to offer aid.

His valiant efforts, however, caught the Chancellor's attention and sympathy and he had decided to act unilaterally. He had appealed to us, the Jedi for help – negotiate an end to the blockade, as his personal ambassador.

I, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, was often the first choice for such negotiations, and I was asked to take this mission.

As I prepared to leave my quarters, having reviewed one last time the mission briefing, my eyes wandered over to the closed door of my apprentice's room – my long missing padawan, and once again a curl of hope rose within me – would this mission bring word of him? I stubbornly clung to the hope that Obi-Wan was alive, and that I would find him. At its touch, I stuffed the thought away even as I turned away, for Naboo was nowhere near Phindar – nowhere near where my padawan had been lost to me.

After five years, I hadn't given up hope of finding him. After five years, I expected to find nothing. Each mission raised a specter of hope, only to have hope dissipate into disappointment, no matter the mission's actual success or failure.

_Stop expecting to find him, accept that he is gone_, I reminded myself. _If the Force wishes you to find him, you will – if he is even alive!_

A diplomatic ship carried me to the Trade Federation command ship since I was there as an ambassador for Chancellor Valorum, not there as a representative of the Jedi. The Neomoidians were courteous enough, and sent a droid to escort me to the conference room. I was, however, kept waiting.

With a shout of the Force, I was on my feet, knowing my ship and its crew had been destroyed, and poison gas was flooding the room. It's not easy to poison a Jedi, and I fought my way clear when spindly battle droids tried to confirm my death. I had almost burned my way into the bridge when droidekas with shield generators intervened. That, I couldn't handle alone, and I managed a burst of Force-assisted speed to get away, when I stumbled across a waiting fleet of invasion craft.

My easy mission had just turned difficult. I had to get down to the planet and warn the Chancellor. I shrugged and moved, for I had little choice but to sneak aboard one of the ships and let it carry me to Naboo.

Once on Naboo, I slipped away without incident and was running through the forest when I was accosted by a gangly amphibious being, who just wouldn't heed my waving arms and cries to move out of the way. I had no choice but to throw myself over him and hope that the machine passing over us would not crush us.

I was trying to get on my way, when the creature, Jar Jar Binks by name, mentioned a hidden city, which he then reluctantly informed me he was banned from. In short, he led me there, the Gungans refused to help the Naboo, but loaned me a ship to get through the planet core to get to the Naboo. I took Jar Jar with me, for the Force whispered he might be of help in the future.

After a most interesting journey, we surfaced in Theed and worked our way along the city streets. My timing was fortuitous. The Queen and her party were being escorted to a prison camp, her guards those stupid battle droids. I jumped right into them and with a few swings of my lightsaber, destroyed them all. I introduced myself, induced the Queen to accompany me back to Coruscant, and together we were able to steal her ship and blast away from the planet. During our escape from the planet, our hyperdrive was damaged and the only place we could get to, to try to find parts to repair it was Tatooine. The planet below us; the planet where my lost Obi-Wan was.

My simple, turned to difficult, mission was even more complicated now.

We landed on the outskirts of Mos Espa and I decided to take Jar Jar with me. He would make me less noticeable, and I could keep an eye on him at the same time. We hadn't gone far when Captain Panaka of the Naboo and one of the Queen's handmaidens, Padme, followed after, trying to get our attention. The Queen wanted Padme to accompany us. I demurred, but finally gave in, and the three of us set out across the hot sands.

Mos Espa was a typical space port, bustling with all sorts. I headed for the port area, for I figured shops dealing with space craft would be clustered nearby, as would the usual seedy cantinas and pleasure palaces and plain cafes. No matter the planet, the layout was always similar.

I saw a likely looking shop and led us inside. A Toydarian, his wings fluttering in anticipation of a buyer, hurriedly called in a small blond human boy to mind the counter and took me outside to look over the parts. My eyes lingered on that boy; something told me he was important and I had to keep an eye on him. That was intriguing, for I could not imagine why the Force was calling him to my attention.

I finally found a part to repair our ship, but the Toydarian would not accept what I had to offer. I needed local currency, and I had none, nor access to any. I would have to wait to see what the Force sent me, so I led the others away to see if I could find another shop with the part that would take my Republic credits.

I lost track of time and the weather, and it was the small boy from the Toydarian's shop, Anakin Skywalker, that warned us as he passed us on the street of the impending storm. He was right, we needed shelter and soon. He offered to take us to his home, and we agreed, for it was surely the Force's will.

It was small but tidy, presided over by his mother, Shmi. She had a quiet strength and dignity about her, in a worn and tired body. What a Jedi she would have made, had she had the Force with her. She welcomed us with barely a raised eyebrow and offered to share their meager meal.

We talked of various things and ultimately it ended up with Anakin offering to help us by pod-racing. His victory and the proper bets on our part would ensure we would get the part we needed, and the Queen would get to the Senate and plead for help.

To make a long story short, we placed the bet with Watto and helped Anakin get his pod into racing form. Sometime during this, I managed to get a spot of blood from Anakin's arm onto a chip and transmitted it back to the ship. I asked them to run a simple test on it. They would have no idea what kind of test it was.

The answer was stunning. Anakin had a midi-chlorian count higher than Master Yoda – the boy was exceptionally strong in the Force. When I asked, his mother said there was no father for the boy, and I believed her. There was no deceit within either one of them.

I wondered, and the more I wondered, the more certain I became. Anakin Skywalker was the Jedi of prophesy. He was the Chosen One, and he had to be freed and brought to Coruscant for training.

Of course, I never lost sight of the fact that my long lost padawan was here somewhere. I searched for him when I could. I had many worries to disturb me: I had to get the Queen to Coruscant; I had to free Anakin and get him accepted for Jedi training, and; I had to find Obi-Wan. In some ways, the last was the hardest, or what I most feared and anticipated.

How I knew he was here, when I could not sense him in the Force, baffled me, but that was a minor problem to address later. I had to find him first.

What would I find, when I found Obi-Wan? What had the mind wipe really done to him? What had the last five years done to my bright and eager padawan? Would he even be Obi-Wan?

And then I saw him.


	2. The Treasure Within My Hands

Head bent over, shoulders slumped; it was the untidy braid that first caught my eye. Longer now, almost to his waist, it had lost its beads and decorations, symbols of his achievements - until I looked closer. One remained: the first one I'd given him, the one that symbolized our bonding. I remembered weaving it into his braid, that little stub of hair as it was at that time, my hands shaking and uncertain as Obi-Wan sat quietly, outwardly calm but inwardly quivering with excitement and anticipation.

The shiny red-brown silk of his hair was dull and matted now, the slim hands browner from constant exposure to Tatooine's twin suns. Dust caked his clothing, which showed signs of careful mending. My padawan had always been neat, so the mending didn't surprise me, but the shape and position of the rips did – they were largely on the back, not on the sleeves where I might have expected them. They looked more like slashes than rips, actually, but I didn't really focus on them. I didn't focus on much of anything, once I realized it was him.

My heart was thumping away and my hands shaking, wanting nothing more than to clutch him by his shoulders and pull him close, but I didn't know what to expect – or even whom.

It was his eyes I was most worried about seeing. Were those beautiful blue-gray eyes, which changed with his emotions, so wise for his years, so full of mirth that I could drown in his laughter – were they sad now? Angry? Worst of all - vacant and withdrawn?

I shuddered at the thought, and I almost walked away. I couldn't face myself, if once I faced Obi-Wan I found only a broken, angry stranger.

"O...Obi," I whispered, but my words could not escape my throat. I cleared my throat, tried again, "Obi-Wan?"

The young man stiffened and I could see tension in every line of his body. He was shaking, oh Force, he was trembling. "What did you say, sir?" he breathed, not daring to move.

"Obi-Wan. My Obi-Wan," my voice cracked and I moved in front of him. He seemed to be struggling to remember something, pulling a long-buried memory out from somewhere it had been buried for safekeeping. There was half-recognition, half-knowledge in his face, as if the memory wipe had been partially successful, and partially blocked. I could see the memories flood back and this half-stranger became only the adult version of the young man I had once known. The one whose loss I had so mourned.

His head was bowed, only a solitary tear sparkled on the lashes of one eye. He was alive, he knew me, and he had a tear in his eye. I didn't know which of our hearts hurt the most.

I reached out a finger and touched his chin, raised his head and gently put my hands on either side of his head, anchoring my long lost padawan to his master, my eyes searching the depths of his for anger, betrayal, or reproach. I saw none of these, but I didn't know what it was I did see.

"Qui-Gon. Master," he breathed, and suddenly he wrapped his arms around me and buried his head in my shoulder even as my arms dropped to wrap him within my own embrace.

It had been shocked recognition I saw in them. Joy. I bowed my head over his as I held him close, one hand softly stroking the back of his head, feeling the sandpaper grit encrusting his hair, the other hand pressing him close to my heart. When he leaned back as if pulling away from me, I must have protested, but he reached a finger to my face and wiped one of my tears away.

Tears -I who had not shed tears for years – I had cried them, when I knew I had lost him. I couldn't stand the pain, and then I had buried the tears deep inside me. All my tears, since then, had been silent tears in my heart. They were finding my eyes, again, escaping from my wounded heart. Only these were tears of joy.

"You're crying, Master," he said in wonder. "I've never seen you cry." And a smile broke over his worn and tired face. Despite the thinness in that face, the scratches and bruises marking it, when he smiled it was the most beautiful face I'd ever seen, for it contained all the joy and love in the universe. I loved that smile, so rarely revealed, for it was a potent weapon and could drive away the gloom of an endless night. This particular night had lasted five long, lonely, hurting years.

"I haven't seen that smile in years," I marveled. "Now, it's healing my heart. Oh, Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, sorry – I missed you, worried about you, wondered about you. My padawan, forgive me?"

He looked puzzled. "For what? It was my fault I was captured, not yours." I wasn't going to argue with him, not here and not now, but it _was_ my fault, for he was my responsibility. My padawan. Even though it had been sheer bad luck and bad timing. Obi-Wan had let himself be captured, to save an innocent bystander, in a situation I should never have let him been in while I was busy elsewhere.

My hands trembled as I stroked his face. Wonder of wonders, he wasn't crying, he was not reproaching me for not rescuing him; he was smiling at me as if all the treasures of the universe had been laid in his hands. Instead, the treasure was within my hands, real, tangible, and smiling at me.

He closed his eyes and his lashes lay soft against his cheek. I wondered what pain he was sheltering within them.

"I thought of you…in the silent hours of the night...and I would imagine the winds battering at the doors were you battling to get me, when, when…" his voice shook, "when the sunset light touched me, I imagined it was your eyes smiling at me, and, and – every time they beat me I thought of you teaching me that I was strong enough to face anything. I wasn't sure who you were, exactly, but I _knew_ you and that I would know you if I saw you again." His voice held a tone of awe, of certainty in the midst of doubt, knowledge without understanding.

"I didn't know how weak I would be when I saw you again." His voice broke, there at the end, but he wasn't crying. I was the one crying, each word of his stabbing deeper into my heart, each word of his another tear in my eyes.

Indeed, I could see he was about to collapse, and I pulled him against me again, kissed his cheek. "I'm going to take you away from here, I'll bring you home," I promised. Before we could say anything more, he pulled away and I could see a mask drop over his face as footsteps approached us. He looked at me without recognition and turned away, back to his work.

"You, there, watcha doing talking to my slave? You wanta talk, you pay me. You wanta talk more, you buys him from me. You wanta him for other things…for that you pay each time." He leered at me, if that face was capable of a leer.

It was some kind of being I didn't recognize, not a Hutt, not a Toydarian. He was small, with hard, calculating eyes, dressed in loose robes as all beings dressed in this hot environment. He carried a strap in one hand. His skin was leathery and wrinkled and he had a tuft of bright red hair sticking straight up from an otherwise bald head. He looked tough, and a distant relative to a human crossed with a Neomoidian. It was a rather strange combination of features.

Now I understood, all too well. Obi-Wan was a slave, one without shackles, but a slave nonetheless and probably with some kind of Force inhibitor since I still could not sense him through the Force. This being was his owner, and it probably had seen me embracing him and thought I wanted him for – I would have flushed, but I have more control over myself than that. I fervently hoped that had never happened to Obi-Wan.

"He's awfully thin, probably not much of a worker or worth even one night," I said disdainfully, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Obi-Wan hide a sudden movement, and the back of his neck flushed red. His head was turned away from me, and he appeared to be hard at work, but I sensed he was listening to every word. "Probably not worth anyone's time or credits. I'll pass."

"Nah, he's a good worker, don't give me much problems, don't hafta beat him too often. I'll sell 'im to you, iffen the price is right."

"If the price is free, I'd consider it," I snapped, and pretended to hesitate. "Unless you'd consider Republic credits," I said, lifting an eyebrow, but he merely stared at me and crossed his arms. I waved my hand, and like with the Toydarian, was unsuccessful. None of these beings had weak enough minds for a Force suggestion to work.

I wasn't having much luck today, either with influencing minds or spending credits, and I was by now totally frustrated and angry. I was surprised that Republic credits weren't accepted here. A place like this usually took anything and everything. For a price.

I turned away, for I had nothing to bargain with. Not yet. I had to pass Obi-Wan and I threw a sideways look at him, my heart heavy with sorrow. His eyes swung to meet mine, and I sighed in relief, for his eyes were dancing with mirth. He winked at me. He understood. I wish I did.

"I'll find a way to free you, I'll find a way," I whispered, and I saw he heard.

_Don't hafta beat him too often_, that slimy little toadstool of a Bantha crossed with a Jawa had said. How dare they beat their slaves, how dare they beat a Jedi, and especially, how dare they beat my Obi-Wan. I had to find a way to rescue him, and there was no way the Jedi Council would deny me the funds once they knew - if I could find no other way to free him.

Behind me, I heard that despicable excuse for a being berate Obi-Wan, and I felt the lash of his strap as if it had been swung across my own shoulders. I ignored it, though my hands were clenching in rage and I wanted nothing more than to turn back and spit that creature on my lightsaber. I had no other choice. I knew, from Anakin, of the transmitter in each slave's shoulder. I couldn't rescue Obi-Wan, not unless I was able to deactivate that transmitter, or purchase him.

The Pod race was the next day. I tried to make a side bet with Watto, this one for the boy's freedom, along with his mother's. Watto refused to bet both of them, but he was willing to bet one of them. I saw his cubes of chance were weighted, so I had no compunction against using the Force to nudge them as I wanted. I wanted both but if I could only have one, it would be Anakin. His future was before him. It was his destiny, to be free.

Now I had to figure out how to free Obi-Wan.

I casually asked Watto if he knew a slave, a human male, with red-brown hair and a long braid. He frowned, and said no, but offered to find him. For a price. I refused.

That evening I asked Anakin and Shmi. They looked at each and nodded slowly.

"He's the one that was always looking out for the others, Ani, remember," Shmi reminded him in her soft voice. "He was always shouldering the blame when something went wrong, so that the other slaves wouldn't get punished. Said he could handle it better than they could. Old Hannibal, the Hutt, got tired of punishing him and sold him. He thought the boy – I never knew his name – wasn't worth his trouble and he wanted to get some money for him before he lost his temper and beat him to death. "

"Yeah, Qui-Gon, I remember. He kept healing, awfully fast, like he had some ability to heal himself," Anakin piped up. "He never complained, either. Made 'ol Hannibal so mad that last time that he couldn't get him to yell like the others, that he beat him something terrible, he did. He didn't have enough sense to scream; he had to make it hard on himself. He was awfully sick afterwards and Hannibal was afraid his injuries would kill him, so he just up and sold him."

I hid my dismay. Obi-Wan apparently hadn't totally lost control of the Force, and was able to access it to turn it on himself. Jedi can accelerate healing, and Obi-Wan had known how. I had seen him do it, those few times he had been hurt on a mission; times I hadn't been able to protect him. He could have stumbled on that use just by being in pain and trying to minimize it. What and how much else did he remember?

"When did this Hannibal sell him?" I asked numbly, for I was afraid it might have just happened, and maybe Obi-Wan was sick and terribly injured, though he had looked healthy enough when I had seen him.

"Oh, going on a year ago, I think," Shmi said, her worn eyes studying me as if she recognized in my interest my need for him. "Do you know him?"

"Yes. I did. Many years ago, when he was a bright and eager young man, quick to learn, quick to laugh. Yes, I knew him,' I whispered. Shmi laid a hand over mine and squeezed it in sympathy. I saw the unspoken question in her eyes and I nodded, looked around. The others were out of earshot. For some reason, I couldn't say anything in front of them. But this quiet, sad-eyed woman, with all the strength of the universe within her…I could tell her.

"He is a Jedi. He was my padawan learner. I lost him years ago – he was captured and his mind wiped. I didn't even know he was alive…," I couldn't continue.

"You'll find him, and you'll free him,' Shmi said with quiet certainty. I looked at her, and drew strength from her. I nodded. There was nothing more to be said.

The day of the race, my attention was all focused on Anakin. He had to win. So much depended on this. The fate of the Naboo, his own fate – too much for those small shoulders. Anakin had come to mean a lot to me in just these few short days. I saw all the promise in him, the goodness within him. The universe needed him, and I would do anything to ensure his freedom. Anything.

When I made that vow, I didn't know at what cost. I would know shortly.


	3. Once More I Leave You Behind

Before the race started, all of us were there in the pit area to encourage Anakin as he went through his final checks. I knew Shmi was concerned with Anakin's safety, and I sought to offer her what reassurance I could. Before Anakin pulled his pod racer out to the starting line, I gave him his first lesson as a Jedi-to-be. I told him to rely on his instincts, and all would be well. Much was at stake, but somehow I knew things would turn out okay.

As I stood, with Shmi, Padme, Jar Jar and several of Anakin's friends, I thought I saw that strange little creature, Obi-Wan's owner, talking to Watto, and some distance away, a man with a braid standing in the shadows. Quickly excusing myself, I headed off to talk to Obi-Wan, if it were he, for a least a few minutes before the race started. I wouldn't have much time to speak.

It _w_as Obi-Wan standing in the shadows, along with a few other slaves, for the Boonta Eve race was a holiday. Slaves accompanied their owners who attended the race, or gathered within the edge of the pit area, obviously not allowed to sit in the stands.

I sent a soft swirl of the Force to flap his sleeve to get his attention as I slipped over near him, and he moved unobtrusively closer to the edge of the group. His face was pinched and drawn, but his eyes were bright and his grin quick to flash on his face.

Neither of us wanted to be seen talking to each other, for fear of the consequences.

"Are you okay, Obi-Wan?" I asked, concern lacing my voice as I remembered hearing the sound of the lash across his shoulders as I last left him, and wondering if that was what caused his face to look so tight and his shoulders so rigid, as if any movement caused him pain. "I'll free you as soon as I can, I promise. I promise."

"I'm okay," he said quietly, and his eyes slid to mine. I saw, however, how his shoulders tensed, as if my reminding him of that lashing brought back the sting of it. "What brought you to Tatooine?"

"Repairs," I said. I didn't dare say too much, or stay too long. "Do you know a slave named Anakin Skywalker – young human? Works for the Toydarian, Watto?"

"Young Anakin – the one racing today? Not really. Different owners. We slaves don't get to socialize much." His mouth quirked in a non-amused grin.

"His midi-chlorian count is higher than Yoda's. Obi-Wan, do you remember the prophecy about the One Who Will Bring Balance to the Force? I think he's the one, and I'm trying to free you and he both."

Not unexpectedly, Obi-Wan was silent, though his eyes flickered to my face and away. I could see he wasn't convinced, but he seemed to recognize my certainty and he wasn't about to dispute it. I doubt he disputed much of anything these days, but when I looked deep into his eyes, I saw the fire was still there, or it had been rekindled. His defiance was one of quiet acceptance, strange as it sounded. He had strength, he had patience and he had endurance. My heart lightened, just a bit. He wasn't beaten into submission. He was still a Jedi inside, even if a slave, even if without the Force.

Curious eyes were starting to turn our way. "Be strong. The Force will be with you, my padawan," I said softly as I carefully edged away and returned to Shmi, Padme and Anakin's friends.

The race didn't start at all well. This all important race, and Anakin was left at the starting line, an almost impossible handicap to overcome. Padme was already fuming over her discovery that Anakin had never even completed this race before, and Shmi was quietly worried. I was the perfect picture of a serene Jedi master, but I, too, was concerned.

Finally, Anakin got his pod racer to start, and he took off far behind the others. Gradually, he gained ground, moving up as other drivers crashed and by taking daring chances. He was really flying on instinct, and he had the crowd roaring and on its feet. It was neck and neck the last lap, and then - Anakin won the race. It was the first time a human had ever won a pod race. It meant I could get the part needed to repair the ship, and get the Queen and Anakin to Coruscant.

I had known Anakin's victory would ensure that.

I hadn't known it would mean choosing between Anakin, the hope for the future, and Obi-Wan, my hope for the present. I was now finding that out. I couldn't free both, and inwardly I raged. Life was not fair! I had once said life was neither fair nor unfair; it was what we made of it. It was a lie, now that I faced this decision.

I now knew Watto had sought out Obi-Wan's owner, for the Toydarian didn't wish to part with Anakin, and he was shrewd enough to know I was interested in the human slave I had described to him. He thought he had found a way to keep Anakin, and give me Obi-Wan in trade instead. That was what the two of them had been discussing, while I had had my furtive conversation with Obi-Wan before the race had started.

Those two slave-owners were standing side by side, exchanging secretive smiles as Anakin, Shmi, Padme and I came up to them after the race. Obi-Wan was standing a few paces off. His eyes were worried and he flashed a quick look at me, but kept his mouth shut.

Wonder of wonders, this time I had a faint sense of his presence within the Force, and the touch bothered me for I sensed a deep uneasiness within him, though he stood quietly enough.

"Found your'a boy," Watto chortled, catching sight of me. "A deal, I have for'a you, eh." His beady eyes were hard and calculating. He thought he could make me an offer that I couldn't refuse.

My eyes narrowed, and I knew I was not going to like whatever it was that he was going to offer me. I had won the part for the ship, and Anakin, and I wasn't going to let him weasel out of the bet. Too much was at stake. I carefully crossed my arms and stared at him steadily, an eyebrow raised.

"You's wants this boy, eh, and Grekle here wants'a Shmi. I'se tells you what, we trade 'em, and you's can have this boy instead of my boy, okay. I'se no care hows you gets your pleasure and this trade'll please us all, eh?"

It was all I could do to keep my jaw from dropping. Whatever I might have expected, this was not it, and I could feel my stomach get queasy within me. Anakin, or Obi-Wan? Oh, Force, I wanted to groan. Don't tell me I have to choose between them. I couldn't.

I could see startled understanding in Obi-Wan's eyes; he hadn't known what was up, either. I saw faint understanding in Anakin's eyes, as if he realized Watto was trying to weasel out of a bet by offering a replacement. I carefully kept a neutral expression on my face and looked at Watto, at Anakin, and then at Obi-Wan, but my thoughts were anguished and conflicted. I had promised I would free Obi-Wan. Yet Anakin was the Chosen One!

I could now see alarm in Obi-Wan's eyes and he put out a hand as if to take the hand he expected to be extended to him – my hand. His eyes implored me - to free him, I was sure. He could wish for nothing else, and I didn't blame him. He didn't know what was at stake. He knew only that I had the means to free him, and I had promised to do so. I had to break his heart, his trust and my promise.

I had to break my own heart. It was a terrible choice that I faced, but one that offered no real choice. I already knew I had no currency to buy Obi-Wan's freedom from his current owner. It was Obi-Wan, or Anakin. I could only take one of them.

But Anakin was the Chosen One. He had a destiny, and it was larger than me, than Obi-Wan, than anything else. One cannot fight destiny. As a Jedi, I knew, too, that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one, or the two. My duty was to the Republic, to the galaxy, to the Force. It outweighed my own needs.

It outweighed Obi-Wan's need.

It tore me apart. I could only save one, and it couldn't be Obi-Wan. My poor padawan, who had so dearly suffered these past five years. Every fiber of my being cried out at leaving him behind. In leaving him, I would be leaving a part of myself.

I was a Jedi, and I knew there was no choice.

This time, I would knowingly leave Obi-Wan behind. This time, I was truly betraying him. I dropped my eyes, for I couldn't stand to see the hurt that had to be there.

Obi-Wan glanced at Anakin, and smiled, a sad smile, I saw out of the corner of my eye as I moved. By not looking at him, I wouldn't see his smile turn into a frown; I wouldn't see his shock and pain. I took a step forward, then another one – and stood behind Anakin.

"I will take young Anakin," I said firmly, my hands on his shoulders. I will not look at Obi-Wan, I thought. I can't bear to see into his eyes, or his heart. I can't look at him. Watto blustered and fumed, but I held steady. I sensed that Obi-Wan was trying to catch my eyes, but I refused to look at him. I couldn't bear to see the look on his face.

_Master_.

I flinched. How could Obi-Wan reach me through the bond? He had no access to the Force. How could he even reach out to me, after what I was doing to him?

_Master. Qui-Gon._ This time, it was so gentle, and yet demanding, I had to respond.

His eyes were waiting for mine to meet his. I looked into his eyes, and saw only compassion and understanding. Obi-Wan didn't blame me. He was encouraging me, giving me strength. It made me weak, instead. I couldn't do this to him, I couldn't. I suddenly saw all the privations and hardships he'd endured, all those long years, the hope that had kept him going – his love for me.

His eyes still implored me, only I now realized; they implored me to do what I must. I could see he feared for Shmi, under his owner, should I change my mind. I knew enough to know his fears were probably warranted, and she appeared to be relatively well treated by Watto. There was little such hope with any possible new owner.

I had made the mistake of underestimating Obi-Wan. He had neither expected, hoped or wished that I would chose him over a young boy, over the one I believed to be the Chosen One.

He wanted me to take Anakin away from a life of slavery, and he wanted to protect Shmi at the same time. My kind and compassionate padawan. He hadn't changed; he was still the Obi-Wan I knew inside. He deserved better than this.

_You must, Master_. His eyes were steady on mine, pouring strength into me. I nodded; I could not refuse him. I would have to mourn him, instead.

_I love you, Master_. His lips formed the same words as his mind.

_And I love you, Obi-Wan_. But I didn't know if he heard me, for the bond had just as suddenly gone silent as it had come alive. I hoped my thought reached him, for I could no longer look at him.

Within minutes, we were gone, back to the ship, back to the Temple, back home. And Obi-Wan remained behind, alone, in a place that would never be home to him. And this anguished Jedi master found a quiet place where he could break down and cry. I had never before, and I never wanted to again, cry like that.

It hurt, oh, it hurt, and the pain deepened at the thought that back on Tatooine, Obi-Wan would not be crying. He would be strong and he would wait, hoping I would be able to return for him. He always had endurance; he had learned patience.

I had learned, once again, that my heart could still break.

I had never wished less to be a Jedi, pledged to the greater good, when the good of one eluded me. Doing the right thing did not absolve one of guilt or heartache.


	4. One's Focus Determines One's Reality

I didn't see Obi-Wan or his owner leave; Anakin was clamoring for details, Watto was bellowing angrily at me, and Shmi was thanking me. In the midst of all that tumult – and having to pull Jar Jar away from a developing situation – I had my hands full. I finally had to throw up my hands and do some bellowing of my own.

Having achieved peace and quiet in that little corner of the pit area, I made Watto deactivate Anakin's chip, sent Anakin and Shmi back to their dwelling where I would retrieve Anakin, and took Padme and Jar Jar to Watto's shop to pick up the parts we needed.

As we loaded the part onto a repulsorsled, to be pulled by two borrowed eopies, Padme asked me quietly what Watto had meant about letting me have "this other boy" rather than Anakin. I hesitated; said I had seen him and inquired about him, thinking he was someone I had once known, and made it clear I was not going to speak any further on the subject. She seemed to accept that, and I sighed a silent sigh of relief.

I would only speak of finding Obi-Wan to the Council, to Yoda in particular. I knew my padawan and Yoda had an unusual bond, akin to, but weaker than, a master/padawan bond. Yoda would help me, I knew, and help me with the Council, if necessary.

I would also have to face some tough questions, and I'd rather hear them from Yoda first. Other than his health, of course, their first question would have to be how had Obi-Wan been changed by the mind-wipe, and by his five years of slavery. He had been learning to control his youthful recklessness and impatience, and how to find calmness amidst chaos – had life helped teach him those lessons, or burned them into internal defiance and rage? Had Obi-Wan lost most of his training, and if so, could he start over? A padawan nearing the end of that journey – how would it be to start on that journey again?

No less important – in some ways, more important – how could Obi-Wan resume his place without his connection to the Force? It was not memory-dependent, so how had he lost it and could he regain it?

I suspected the knowledge to access it had been missing and was returning with his memories, for I had started to sense him within the Force there at the end, and of course, he had been able to reach me through the bond when he felt the need.

No, I knew Obi-Wan hadn't lost the Force; his touch with it was much as it had been when I had first accepted him as my padawan, uncertain, hesitant and tentative. The Force was always there, once one learned to accept it rather than grab for it.

While the new part was installed and tested, I returned the repulsorsled and eopies, and went to bring the new Jedi-to-be back with me. His mother was brave, as I expected; she wanted only the best for her son, even at the cost of losing him. I promised her I would take care of young Anakin.

Anakin was initially eager and excited, though when he realized he was truly leaving his mother behind, he hesitated. I could not force a choice on him, despite my hopes for him, nor did his mother force one on him. Shmi, however, with wisdom that reminded me of the wisest Jedi masters, gave Anakin the courage to accept his brave new future and leave her behind.

Anakin and I trudged through Tatooine's sands back to the ship. With my longer legs I was ahead of the boy, and had turned to check his progress when I saw a speeder bearing down on us. I read malice, somehow, in that dark clothed figure and I drew my lightsaber. I was ready, then, when the figure leaped off the speeder and came at me with his own lightsaber.

"Run, Ani, to the ship," I commanded, and turned all my attention to the fight. This tattooed creature was strong, and fully a match for me. I was counted amongst the greatest Jedi swordsmen, and I was pressed to keep up with this being. I had practically all my attention focused on the fight when I sensed the Nubian ship slide by overhead, its ramp extended, and I made a jump for it. I had survived this fight, but I wondered how it might have ended without this rescue.

I had little time to worry, then, for Anakin was running to my side with a worried look. I did my best to reassure him, once I caught my breath.

After all the events of the past few days, there was much to ponder, and much to regret, so I didn't expect to be very companionable on the several days trip back to Coruscant. As a Jedi, and over the course of a long life, I had learned to release my emotions into the Force time and time again. I had now to accept leaving Obi-Wan behind – I had had no choice, and I would be back. I knew I would be back; I just didn't know when.

This attacker, too, this fierce warrior with hate in his eyes and bearing a lightsaber – what was he? Who was he? I had much to reflect on.

I secluded myself while I forced myself to confront and release all those emotions pent within me, for they would help no one. I might be a Jedi master, but I found this no easier than I had as a young padawan, learning to let go. Sometimes, emotions just ran too deep and close to the heart to easily release. All Jedi struggled with it, at times, and I was no exception.

I knew the vast majority of the galaxy's beings thought we Jedi were cold and unemotional, for our training compelled us to internalize our emotions and not act on them. That was the face we showed to the outside world, but we knew better. Releasing our emotions was both a goal and a necessity, and something we constantly had to work on, for we were still sentient beings. This time, I was finding this very difficult to do.

Young Anakin, actually, helped. For his sake, I tried to be cheery, for Anakin had been plucked away from the only life he had known. He missed his mother. He seemed to take comfort from only Padme and me. I was grateful for her soft concern for the boy, and I did my best to keep a smile on my face while around him.

It actually was easier than I expected, for the boy was full of questions and eager to know of the wider galaxy. In some ways, he reminded me of young Obi-Wan, when we had first bonded – eager, curious, and intelligent. It didn't hurt, as I expected, that comparison, and the memories it occasionally brought back were comforting.

I was learning, yet again, that memories brought both pain and peace, and I knew new memories would be forged shortly, once I rescued Obi-Wan. Out of the ashes of our separation would rise a new beginning for us.

I focused on that thought, and my heart was eased. Truly, one's focus did determine one's reality. One did keep relearning life's lessons, I thought.

I found I could smile again.

My first priority upon reaching Coruscant had to be Anakin. The Chosen One. I needed to get the Jedi Council to accept him for training, for no one over the age of one was ever accepted. Tradition dictated this, tradition born of hard-worn knowledge.

Every rule had an exception, and I was determined Anakin would be one.

I had to argue to get the Jed Council to even test Anakin. Too old! they kept insisting. Rules are only roadmaps to the path ahead of us – yes, Anakin was too old for training by the rules. But he was the Chosen One. Rules didn't mean anything in the face of prophecy.

I can be rather forceful, so I finally got them to agree after much arguing on my part. While I waited, I stood outside on one of the Temple balconies. That usually soothed me, watching the day slide into evening, colors coalescing into bright glows and softening into shadowed hues, before disappearing into the twilight.

Tonight, it only deepened my pain, but I continued to watch. It reminded me of Obi-Wan, lost and now found, and still separate from me, on another planet. We had shared the sunsets side by side for as long as I could remember, when at the Temple between missions. I had avoided the sunset for several years after Obi-Wan had been captured, mind-wiped, and transported somewhere. I had never found a trace of him. I had looked, oh, how I had looked.

Finally, I had started to avoid all things that reminded me of him. The door to his room stayed firmly shut, I no longer spoke his name out loud, and I avoided the sunsets. Finally, I stopped looking. I just had nowhere else to look.

It was my old master who confronted me. Master Dooku was unhappy with many things, and he hadn't returned to the Temple in some time. One day I had returned and found him, sitting properly upright for he would never sprawl all over the furniture as Obi-Wan was wont to – until my disapproving eye fell upon him – hands in his lap and those stern eyes boring into me as soon as I stepped into my quarters.

"What's gotten into you, my old padawan?" he demanded in his rich voice. "You mope, you flit around like an angry ghost, and you do not behave as a Jedi master should. Did I not teach you to release your emotions into the Force, young one?"

"Good to see you, too, Master," I said wearily. "I have not had the pleasure of your company in a long time, and you sit there and berate me? About what, may I ask?"

"You know," he stated calmly. "Young Kenobi. Obi-Wan."

I winced. "Don't speak his name. He's gone. I am trying to release his memory into the Force. If that meets with your approval, my master."

"Qui-Gon," he thundered, and I sat, abruptly, out of habit. He did his best to gentle his voice, but my master was never known for his gentleness, only his prim and proper civility.

"Have I taught you nothing? Release your emotions, padawan, not your memories. Don't dishonor him by shutting him out of your memories. Come."

He might as well have grabbed me by the arm, though he merely stood. He marched me through the long corridors and when he reached the door to the nearest balcony, I realized where he was leading me. I protested. He just turned and eyed me with an eyebrow raised, challenging me. I felt fourteen again, and cowed.

We stood, side by side. At first, I refused to look out, keeping my back turned to the coming sunset. How dare he, I fumed.

I finally stole a sideways look – it was a glare, actually – at him, and surprised a look on his face. If I hadn't known he was incapable of it, I would have said it was a soft and gentle look. He put his hands on my shoulders and physically turned me around to face that light I dreaded.

"Remember him, when you see that, and he'll always be with you. Don't let him disappear from your heart. He has only disappeared from your life. He is truly dead, if you won't remember him."

Somehow, his words reached me as none others had. It didn't hurt that a burst of sunlight burst through a hole in the clouds like a sign of the Force.

"Did you arrange that?" I demanded, awed, humbled and sniffling. My master merely pulled a neat and crisp square from within his cloak and passed it to me. I blew my nose and offered it back and he crossed his arms. I hid a smile, and tucked it in my belt.

"Say his name," he commanded, with a sideways look at me.

"Yes, Master," I sighed. "Obi-Wan."

I felt suddenly lighter, as if the weight of gloom and despair had lifted from my heart. My voice was a hushed whisper of understanding, for now I understood.

"Obi-Wan," I repeated, my face uplifted to the warm light that reminded me of him – and I almost felt him beside me, strong, reassuring, loving. Obi-Wan would not want me to all but give up living; Obi-Wan would want me to go on actually living. I would best honor his memory, by keeping him alive and warm within my heart. My master was right: Obi-Wan would never be totally lost, as long as I remembered him.

"Obi-Wan," I said, gladly flinging his name into that flaming sky – and I smiled.

Then I closed my eyes and drew in the peace of the evening, and when I opened them again, Master Dooku was gone. I haven't seen him since, but his lesson has stayed with me.

That is why I now face the sunset. For then I am never alone. Obi-Wan is always with me.


	5. The Council’s Gift to an Absent Padawan

I was still standing watching the end of the sunset when my comlink beeped and recalled me to the Council Chamber. I could tell nothing from the simple summons.

I lifted my face to the deepening dusk, and renewed my simple promise to my padawan: "I will return for you, Obi-Wan. Believe that, have faith in the Force. I will return as soon as I can make arrangements to free you."

With Obi-Wan's name on my lips and Anakin's in my mind, I turned away from that deep blue night shading into black, and reentered the Temple. I knew the Council had to accept Anakin, and yet I was troubled, for I was unsure they would do what they must.

They called me stubborn and defiant, but I was willing to listen to the will of the Force in a way that they could not. I had to be right – I knew I was right. There simply was no way the Council would not see this.

I smiled reassuringly at Anakin as I entered, and stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and smiled, but it was a sad little smile, like his mind was far away – back with his mother on Tatooine. It was a sentiment I thoroughly understood, for a part of me remained there, too. It would remain apart from me, until I was re-united with the one I had left it with, the one who used to stand beside me where Anakin now stood.

The Council refused to accept Anakin for training.

I stood in shock. Blind fools! Listen to the Force! Listen.

What would they listen to? What words would reach them? Anakin stirred beside me, his face downcast and near tears. Standing, in the padawan's spot. I took a deep breath.

"I will take Anakin as my padawan," I said as firmly as I could, even as my heart cried out that I was abandoning Obi-Wan yet again. I turned deaf ears to it, for the moment, caught in my need to see Anakin vindicated and accepted.

"An apprentice you already have," Yoda said sternly, and the members of the Council swiveled their various appendages and faces towards him in mild surprise. "Master Qui-Gon?" he said, inviting me to tell them what I had confided in him mere moments before, before Anakin's testing.

"Obi-Wan is alive. I found him, in slavery on Tatooine, and had no way of rescuing him at the time," I said curtly. "I must either have a means of disabling a chip within him and stealing him back, or credits to purchase his freedom."

"Is he still a Jedi?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, in his softly accented voice. I knew what he meant – was Obi-Wan, well, Obi-Wan? Had he retained anything?

It was not an easy question to answer. I looked deep into my heart, and found the answer in that flash of Obi-Wan's eyes, the gentle command to take Anakin away. I had the answer, even if I didn't have all the answers.

"Yes. He is a Jedi." I had never been more certain of anything in my life. Anakin shifted beside me, and I spared him a moment's glance. As certain as I was of Anakin's destiny, I was more certain of my answer to the Council.

Finally, Mace Windu leaned forward and said, "Now is not the time for this," and Yoda agreed with him, adding, "Decided later, his fate will be." Of course, they were speaking of Anakin, not Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan gave up his chance of freedom for the boy, and for his mother," I said, trying to stifle my disappointment and frustration. "He told me to take Anakin and leave him behind, when I could only free one of them." Anakin shifted again, and his eyes shot up to meet mine in surprise. I remembered that our silent communication had been through the bond, private. I had not mentioned it to anyone until now, and Anakin had not known of this.

I looked at each of them in turn, hurt and betrayed. I had abandoned Obi-Wan so that the Chosen One could take his place with the Jedi, and they refused him. I couldn't believe it. How dare they do that to Anakin? How dare they do that to Obi-Wan?

"You dishonor Obi-Wan's sacrifice," I said tersely, and I could sense the Force swirl through the chamber as each Council member retreated into a calm center to meet the surge of bitterness I couldn't restrain. I expected a reprimand, whether now or later, but I didn't care. I just stared at them.

"Sacrifice?" Mace demanded, leaning forward. "That is a strong word, Qui-Gon."

"It is indeed," I almost snapped back. Almost. "He has been ill-treated, yet he asked that I free Anakin when I was forced to choose between them. He asked that I leave him behind."

"Spare Qui-Gon the retelling I will," Yoda said, his eyes turning on Mace. "Told me, he has, the story I will relate. Other affairs to discuss we have."

Yoda turned back to me, his ears swiveling. "The Force be with you, Qui-Gon," he said firmly. It was a dismissal, and one I heeded. I nodded to Anakin and we left.

When I left the Council chamber, I was so angry I fairly strode down the corridors. Anakin struggled to keep up with me. I had no patience, and I wasn't about to inflict my feelings on a young boy thrust into a strange situation amongst strangers.

I tried to soften my voice, and told Anakin I was going to return him to the Naboo for now, while I tried to calm down. He nodded, in relief I think, for he saw how upset I was, and he was pleased to be able to spend more time with Padme. He had really grown attached to her in a short time.

I paced back and forth in my quarters, wondering what I should do. I knew what I had been told to do, but I also knew what I had to do. I just didn't know where I'd get the credits, or when.

Yoda came to hunt me out later. I didn't want to talk to him; I didn't want to talk to anyone. I wanted to cradle my hurt and my grief, wallow in it until I was sated, until it was time to act.

I wasn't going to speak to Yoda. Let him spout his words of worthless wisdom. Wisdom would not help me.

I whirled on him, demanded in a voice cracking with my pain, "How dare you! How could you so betray Obi-Wan's sacrifice?"

Yoda just stood there, leaning on his gimer stick, waiting for the words to pour out of me. They did, angry words, hurt words, sobs. It was not until the flow stopped and I sat down heavily, totally drained, that Yoda spoke for the first time, and his words started to heal my wounded heart.

"Save Obi-Wan, we will, Qui-Gon," he said softly, and my head came up from where I had buried it in my hands. "Know a special bond I have, too, with your young apprentice. Leave him to suffer we cannot. Enough credits to free him we are putting together. On your way to Naboo, time enough there is to side trip to Tatooine. Save our Obi-Wan, you will."

He frowned at my smile, which only grew wider. I had come to find that Yoda's frowns were his way of controlling some emotion he wished to keep inside. He had frowned mightily when I had told him Obi-Wan was alive, and living in slavery. His pleasure that I had found my padawan was nearly as great as mine had been. I had had only a few brief moments to brief him before the start of the Council session.

"Tell me, more of what you know happened to Obi-Wan these past years," he asked, sitting and putting his hand on my knee. "Need to help him deal with it; we must, when return here he does. Prepared, I wish to be, and not to discuss things he might not wish to discuss, or force him to face things he would rather not."

"I'll be here for him," I protested – and sighed. I relented, for Yoda was right. It would be hard for Obi-Wan to return to Temple life and face his friends and colleagues. Whatever we could all do to ease his transition was for his own good.

"I don't know all that much, as yet," I admitted, suddenly surprised at how little I did actually know.

"He was mind-wiped, but it wasn't permanent. He remembered some things he could do with the Force, he remembered me although he couldn't place my name or our relationship – it was like everything was just out of reach, yet he could remember some things. When I spoke his name, it was like a veil lifted, for he knew me, though he didn't remember me until he looked at me."

My eyes widened in sudden realization, and sheer horror. "He remembered – when he heard my voice, saw my face." I buried my face in my hands, and felt Yoda's hand touch my knee again, shake it. I looked up, eyes blurry.

"If I had found him sooner – that mind-wipe only worked as long as he didn't face anything familiar. It was that fragile – oh, Force – he was fully Obi-Wan as soon as he saw me." I didn't want my voice to quiver, so I stared at my hand and focused on a smudge of dirt. I took a deep breath and sighed my pain out.

"The Force, you say was not with him," Yoda asked gently, after a moment's silence.

"No, more like he couldn't access it," I corrected. "I think he has some kind of Force-inhibitor on him somewhere but the Force was with him all the time. It led me to him. He even… even," my voice broke, "he reached me through the bond just before we left. It was brief, but it was enough to know…" I couldn't finish. Obi-Wan had been abandoned, twice, and his last thoughts were his love and understanding. He was a better man than I.

"Your bond, intact it is," Yoda nodded thoughtfully. "Good, that is. How looks he?"

"Thin," I admitted. I saw again his hollow cheekbones, felt his ribs poking through the skin of his chest as I hugged him, the bruises and scratches that I'd seen. There were probably far more that I hadn't seen. "Bruised. They beat him, not often, his owner said."

I looked down and saw my hands clenching and unclenching. Yoda saw, too.

"I don't know how often or how badly he was mistreated, or how long he had been on Tatooine. His 'master'," Force, how I hated to call his slave owner that, "his _owner _offered to sell him to me for money, or for just one night's pleasure - ." Oh, Force, how I hoped Obi-Wan had never been forced to that. He was not a slave to a Cantina-owner, or a slave working in the so-called pleasure palaces; I wished to believe it was just his owner's hope, born out of my kiss on his cheek.

"Treat him kindly, we will," Yoda said, forcing me to look at him. "Make him well, we will."

"Can we make him happy again?"

"No," Yoda said gently, and I flinched. "His happiness up to him it is, all we can do is to help him find it. Said, you did, that he was happy to see you. Happy, I think he'll be. Happy, a state of mind it is, and inside Obi-Wan it is. Lost it, no. Help him forget the bad, we will and he will find his happiness, if buried it is. Lost, it is not."

I remembered Obi-Wan's smiles, his wink. Wise old Jedi! Yoda saw to the truth of so much. If I was a demonstrative man, I'd hug him. Or not. I looked at the gimer stick, and winced. Even if I tried, I didn't want that whacking against my shin ever again.

Yoda gave that look that I knew meant he understood how I felt.

"Brought you this, I did, for Obi-Wan. And for you," he said solemnly.

He opened his hand and held it out to me. Beads and decorations – symbols of all that Obi-Wan had achieved. Lost, over the long hard years. Yoda was giving me something for Obi-Wan, to weave into his braid once again, once he was back where he belonged, at my side.

One of them was new. A bead, symbolizing a trial passed. A bead, symbolizing another step on the path to knighthood. The Council had authorized this. They recognized Obi-Wan's ordeal, and growth in the ways of the Force, even if he had been denied access to it for so long. It wasn't a reward for suffering, though he had suffered much, I knew.

It was a reward for self-knowledge and self-control – his generosity, compassion, and mercy towards others in a situation that called on him to deny his own needs. The much-feared trials only come after the skills are mastered, and are tests more of character than use of the Force. Obi-Wan had just passed one of the tests.

It was a bead no padawan knew the significance of, until knighted. A bead, each knight and master recognized.

My eyes filled with tears and I put out my hand and watched Yoda drop the beads into them. I wrapped my hand around them, full of wonder. I was going to get Obi-Wan back.

Certainty, joy, elation fought for release. I really was going to get Obi-Wan back!

Oh, what the heck. I could stand a little pain. I leaned forward and hugged Yoda. If he whacked me, I never felt it.


	6. Freedom, Freedom at Last

When I told the Naboo I needed to stop on Tatooine, I could sense their surprise, and Captain Panaka flat out refused. He hadn't wanted to land there when we had had no choice, and there was no way he would allow me to endanger the Queen a second time. I insisted, and said I would stop there one way or the other, even if I took a separate ship and met them on Naboo.

I stood before him, braced with legs apart, my arms folded across my chest and a mask of Jedi serenity on my face. I was implacable: a rock that others could fling themselves against, only to shatter against my stone exterior as I remained untouched. Inside, I was anything but serene – I was impatient, irritated and determined. My stare could face down almost anyone – but Captain Panaka was not cowed in the least.

"I – will - not – endanger - the Queen!" he snarled through closed lips. His hard eyes never blinked as he stood toe to toe with me. Neither of us was willing to give an inch.

I leaned forward with a growl. "I am going to Tatooine. If you won't stop on your way, I will go on my own and try to rejoin you on Naboo, but I am going to Tatooine, Captain. There is no negotiation on that matter. None."

"Why?" Captain Panaka demanded, throwing up his hands.

My heart beat painfully in my chest. Because my long-lost and rediscovered padawan is there! Because I had to abandon him! Because I made a promise, and a Jedi always keeps his promises!

Because I need Obi-Wan back at my side.

Because Obi-Wan never deserved such a fate, and I had the means to free him.

"I need to pick up a Jedi there. He has been gone," I swallowed with difficulty, "on a long and difficult mission. His very freedom is at stake."

That last was not stretching the truth.

"Captain," the Queen said.

We both turned, surprised, for deep in our argument, we had not noticed her approach. How long had she been standing there? Padme was behind her shoulder, and her eyes went to mine and she smiled in sympathy, as if she sensed my deep distress and determination.

"We will go to Tatooine, Captain." The Queen turned in clear dismissal and left the room, leaving the captain sputtering in total dismay and anger. I only smiled.

We landed, as before, on the outskirts of town. I took no one with me. Once again, I trudged over the sands of Tatooine, feeling the small grains swirl against my face and scour the polish off my boots. Even with my cloak drawn tight around me, sand burrowed its way up my sleeves and inside my boots. I could feel the grit grind under my feet. I wondered if anyone living here actually considered Tatooine home, or was it merely a place they lived.

Surely no one willingly lived here, except those native to the planet.

It was almost midday. The twin suns were almost directly overhead, and sweat mixed with sand on my face despite my best efforts. What a desolate and hellish place, I thought, so different from the Jedi Temple. Would Obi-Wan find its cool peace welcome, or cold, once I brought him home?

The planet was about as far as one could get from the cool serenity of the Temple on Coruscant. There, wide corridors were lined with small fountains and windows spanned from nearly the floor to the ceiling in the grand corridor. The Temple was filled with peace and contemplation: a soft counterpoint to the bustle and anxiety outside.

Living quarters were nearly Spartan – comfortable, but small and minimal, for a Jedi owned but little in the way of possessions. It would probably seem luxurious to my long-lost padawan, for his current living quarters was probably merely a shelter, crowded and smelly, merely a place to stretch out in exhausted sleep at night, before the next day brought its relentless and never-ending grind.

A Jedi was used to a lifestyle that was often harsh and difficult, while on missions, but there was always an end to it, always a return to the soothing welcome of home. Obi-Wan had had no relief, not for five long years.

On his return, would he feel lost and aimless, or full of purpose? Should I insist on a long rest, or fill his time with easy missions? I would seek Yoda's counsel, but Obi-Wan would have a reprieve from toil. He would have time to relax, I vowed. I would remain at his side until I knew he had put the past behind him and was ready to move on.

My musings ended as I entered the dusty streets of Mos Espa. The heat fairly shimmered off the walls, and sucked the moisture from every cell of my body. Any beings out in the heat moved languorously; no one was willing to expend much effort. Even the animals huddled in pitiful patches of shade, for with the suns overhead there was little of it to be found.

Despite the oppressive heat, I hurried to where I'd seen Obi-Wan before - and realized I didn't know his owner's name, or where to find him. Trying to blink some moisture back into my parched eyeballs, I tried to think of the best way to proceed. Out of long-buried habit, I sent a tendril of Force out searching for Obi-Wan and I was startled to connect to him.

_Master?_

_I'm here for you, Obi-Wan!_ I said. _I came back, as I promised_.

There was silence between us for a moment, and I nearly panicked. A feeling of overwhelming joy and love suddenly burst through the bond and surrounded me. I looked at my hands, half expecting a shimmer of light to outline them. I realized what Yoda had said was true: Obi-Wan carried his own happiness within him. He had never lost it; somehow, he had managed to retain it during all the dark and painful years that separated us.

Right now, I had to focus on freeing Obi-Wan; I would worry about everything else afterwards.

_How do I find you, free you?_

With Obi-Wan's guidance, I found my way through the dusty streets, until I sensed him just ahead of me. I could feel his very heart racing, or was it mine? I rounded the corner and saw him, working hard, the sweat dripping from his face and his tunic sticking wetly to his back. He turned his head and grinned at me, but made no other sign that he saw me. I ignored him, too.

I nearly jumped when Obi-Wan suddenly gagged and leaned over as if he could hardly breathe. The coughs that followed were no better. . Oh Force, he was sick. Terribly sick. I had no desire to bargain anymore, I just wanted to hold him in my arms and tell him he would be okay.

Then he winked at me.

My breath caught in my throat and I crossed my arms and stared crossly at him as my heart settled back into a steady rhythm.

_Lowering my price_, he whispered through the bond.

_You have learned deception, my padawan_, I returned, as my dread turned into a relieved smile. He must have taken that as a rebuke, for he did not return my thought. I did regret that he had learned deception in this life of his, for he never been given to deceit before, but it was hardly a flaw.

"Ah, you're back, thinking of buying my slave after all?" his owner suddenly showed up at my elbow. I shrugged my shoulders and slowly turned to look at him.

"Perhaps, but no. He seems sick," I said carelessly. On cue, Obi-Wan coughed again and wiped his mouth with an unsteady hand. I turned away dismissively. "I don't think so. He's not worth it."

"You can have him for twenty thousand," his owner said, as if that was a bargain. "He's young; when he recovers you will get much use from him. He's a hard worker."

"Twenty thousand! It'll cost that much to feed him while he's sick, and I'm not so sure he'll recover. He sounds like he's caught the Outer Rim flu that's just reaching here. It kills about thirty per cent of those infected. Not worth it." I turned away, hiding a smile. There was no such disease sweeping the Outer Rim, but I didn't think his owner knew that.

"Fifteen thousand."

I kept walking.

"Twelve five."

I stopped and turned, looked at Obi-Wan appraisingly. "Five. He needs treatment."

"Ten. No less."

I sighed, hesitated. "Ten," I agreed. It was higher than I expected to bargain the creature down to, especially if Obi-Wan had been "lowering his price," in expectation of my return. On the other hand, I wanted Obi-Wan badly enough to just hand over the fifty I had with me. I handed over the credits, carefully making it seem as if that was all the credits I had on me. I had no wish to be waylaid, not with Obi-Wan just freed from captivity. I needed to keep my focus on him.

"You there, you will obey me at all times," I said in a stern voice, grabbing one arm and pulling Obi-Wan in front of me. He flinched just a bit at my grasp, and I relaxed my vise-like grip. My fingers must have been digging into the thin and tender skin of his wrist. I didn't mean to hurt him, but now that I had him, I wasn't letting him go.

"You belong with me, now, understand? I am your master." Even as I stood there spouting off, my eyes twinkled with joy, for indeed Obi-Wan was back where he belonged, with me. For five long years, there had been an empty spot at my side and in my heart, and the one who made it whole was now within my grasp.

My hand was trembling just a bit as I reached a hand to cup his face, still smooth shaven but the skin dry and rough from exposure to the sun. I rubbed my thumb over his cheekbone and smiled into his eyes. Let that filthy slave-owner – former slave owner, I corrected myself – think I wanted Obi-Wan for whatever reason he chose to believe.

Obi-Wan was very quiet and still under my hand, and he flushed just a bit as he dropped his head and murmured, "Yes, Master."

The reality that he was free, that he could resume his true life as a Jedi, was just setting in, and I sensed his heart was too full for an outward expression of his feelings. I could sense the joy bubbling just below the surface, however, and I leaned close to his ear and whispered, "You're free, Padawan, you're free."

He dropped to one knee in front of me, head bowed. "Master," he said formally, his voice firm and yet soft. His lashes dropped to his cheek as if to hide deep emotion, then lifted to reveal eyes full of relief and happiness.

Grekle gave a sort of cackle as he deactivated the slave chip with a quick pass of a tool. "Better re-register 'im quickly and get that chip reactivated with your own code," he advised. "Here's his papers. You have your fun with him, eh? Never seen 'im that respectful to me – he must like you."

To Grekle, to any onlooker, it had to have looked like a slave giving obeisance to his new owner. To a Jedi, it was a gesture of respect and humility, usually from a padawan to his master, though not always. I lifted Obi-Wan to his feet, and with a soft, "you please me," for Grekle's amusement, I patted his cheek, grinning shamelessly with joy, for my back was to Grekle.

By now, Obi-Wan's eyes were sparkling with many emotions. I wanted to get him away from there, away from those memories, so I put my hand on his arm and ordered him to come with me.

Just before we left, I asked a brusque final question of Grekle: did Obi-Wan have some other kind of restraint on him, answered no. What then had inhibited the Force from Obi-Wan? I wondered, going back to my earlier suspicions that it arose from his memory loss. There were many questions and many answers to come, after our true reunion in private.

As much as I wanted to get Obi-Wan away from Tatooine, I didn't wish him or the Naboo to face each other until Obi-Wan was cleaned up and had time to absorb his freedom. I wanted them to meet Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi, not Obi-Wan the freed slave, and I wanted the Jedi to meet the Naboo.

I had rented a room with a private fresher and I led Obi-Wan there. I kept one hand under his elbow. I needed the contact. We didn't say anything, until I unlocked the door with a swipe of the card and held the door open.

It was probably the first courteous thing anyone had done to Obi-Wan in years, for he initially hung back until I nodded at him to procede me into the cool recess of the small room. He started forward, then stopped, turned around and faced me with a teasing grin on his face.

He was the first to speak. His eyes sparkled as he demanded, "So, I was only worth five to you, huh?"

I stared at him, surprised and a big smile spread over my face. "You are worth the full twenty, padawan, and plenty more, but there was no reason for that," I used a name for that so-called slave owner, so filthy a word, that Obi-Wan's eyes were shocked, "to pocket that much. Go on, in with you."

He looked at the door, then back at me, and I saw he had lost the teasing look. He was solemn and seemed almost in disbelief that this moment had come – that his life was back in his own hands. I saw him square his shoulders and lift his head, and step inside.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, as soon as I shut the door behind us. He fell into my arms, or I into his, and we held each other tight, his head pressed in the curve of my neck and shoulder and his arms warm around me. I patted him gently on the back, holding him close to my heart, where he had always been and would always be.


	7. Hardship Revealed

We stood, arms wrapped around each other and I could feel the slow thump of Obi-Wan's heart against mine. It had been far too long since we had been together. We had no need for words, just a need to touch, to assure each other than we were no longer separated. I finally pushed Obi-Wan away from me and looked deep into his eyes.

"Padawan, mine," I said gently, clearing my throat, just looking at him, and he at me. I closed my eyes and shook my head in delighted wonder. I took a deep breath.

"There is so much to say, but we don't have that much time now. We'll talk on the ship. There's a Trade Federation blockade against Naboo; I am with the Queen and a few of her people. Anakin is with us. The Federation has occupied Naboo; the Queen is going back to fight for her people's freedom. They do not know of you, to them, you will be another Jedi, my padawan, we rendezvoused with here. And you, my Obi-Wan, are a Jedi back at my side where you belong."

"And is Anakin is to be trained?" he asked, after a moment spent considering my words.

"No," I felt my lips tighten. "The Council will change their minds, though. Obi-Wan, words can't express how much I missed you; how overjoyed I am to have you back, but…." I faltered, for this would not be easy to say.

"Obi-Wan, this will hurt you, but I have to tell you. I offered to take Anakin as my padawan. It means nothing against you, please believe me, but I believe that the Council has to be close to letting you take the trials, once you regain your footing. I don't doubt that you'll succeed."

I could sense Obi-Wan's shock, but I could see him silently trying to absorb all this, as he quietly sat down and bowed his head. His fingers were curling, and I remembered he often did that when deep in thought. At least they weren't clenched in anger or tense with fear as mine were. I made myself loosen my hands, and sit down beside him, though not right next to him. I wanted to give him some room to reflect.

My poor padawan, all but abandoned for five years with no memory, a slave subject to the whims and cruelties of others when his life had been devoted to the service of others. Then to be freed and told his place was being taken by another, for of course, that would be how he would see it. As would anyone. I didn't blame him, if he was upset, but it was best to be upfront with him, as he tried to figure out to step back into his former life – his real life.

The silence between us grew. I felt helpless, for I had placed this burden on his shoulders; how then could I help him bear it? My heart was heavy; then I knew there were things I needed to tell him. They were things I probably shouldn't speak of, but Obi-Wan needed to hear them.

I leaned forward and spoke slowly and gently. Though he appeared deep in his own thoughts, giving no sign of hearing my words, I knew he was listening. He always listened when I spoke.

"You don't know, Obi-Wan, that the trials are not always a formal test. Sometimes life itself is your trial. You had most of the skills, and this ordeal has not deflected you from the path that you were on. I know you remained true to your ideals – to who you were and still are, despite the cruelties of these last few years. You are still the Obi-Wan I guided so long, compassionate and brave. I would not be surprised if after the Council speaks to you – well," I leaned over and touched his braid while smiling at him, "this won't remain on long."

I sat with one hand on his shoulder as he continued to stare inward. I wished I knew his thoughts. Once, I would have. So much had been lost to us, so much time.

He sighed suddenly, and my hand tightened on his shoulder and I pulled him against me. He came, easily, and both my arms wrapped around him as if he were that young boy I had comforted so many times in the past as he leaned against my shoulder.

"Why couldn't you access the Force, Obi-Wan?" I whispered in his ear. "Why didn't you reach out for me? I would have come, I would have found you."

"I lost…so much, at first," he answered, haltingly. "I had no memories, nothing, and I was alone, so very alone." I could feel his shoulders start to shake, but he pulled himself together. I hoped he found safety in my arms, and that's why he could face it. I remembered the empty faces and silences of those others, mind-wiped on Phindar. They were mere shells of living beings, and my Obi-Wan had been much the same. My arms tightened around him.

"You have no idea what it's like – you hardly remember how to form words, or feed yourself – you're so helpless. Yet you have enough self-awareness to know how empty you are. It's a terribly lonely feeling, so very lonely."

His voice was achingly hollow, like a scream that echoed within a cavern and gave nothing back except the same sounds, magnified and distorted. It made my heart hurt, and I caught my breath at imagining the terror he had to have felt – he would have been no longer a Jedi, no longer a young man growing into adulthood, no longer even a child – only a vacant-minded, frightened being lost and alone – an infant in mind, turned loose without guidance. I couldn't imagine a fate more cruel, and it had happened to my padawan.

"When things started to come back, it was a blur, memories without meaning, faces without names, and abilities without knowledge. I knew I had been loved, once, but I wasn't sure by whom, or why they had left me – I'm sorry, Master," he whispered as a tear dripped from my face onto his at that last, and I saw that tears were trickling down his own face. He was so lost in his memories, that he didn't even know he was crying.

"After a while, I seemed to know when things were about to happen, but I couldn't seem to prevent them. If I tried, they beat me. Once I was beaten so badly, I thought…they would kill me, for being so useless. My arm was broken and several of my ribs. I couldn't work hard, so they kept punishing me for being slow."

"Why did they beat you?" I asked, gently stroking his forehead.

"Which time?" he asked absently. "That time - several drunken spacers kidnapped a child away from its mother. A young girl. She was just a few years younger than I, Master, and pretty. Her mother tried to intervene, and they were going to shoot her. I tried to save her, for I knew they didn't care if she lived or died, and if I distracted them enough to only wound her, she would live. I – I felt this surge through me and somehow, I knew I could somehow push against their arms and disturb their aim. Their shots only grazed the mother. I tried to bandage her wounds - then we heard the girl scream. Oh, Master, it was terrible. She was so young, and they…they…."

"Shhh, Obi-Wan," I soothed him quiet, for I could well imagine. Lawless space ports were no place for innocent children; too many were kidnapped or mishandled.

"The mother screamed at me, accused me of saving her life, of forcing her to have to listen to her girl's screams. She knew what they were doing to her in that alley; we could all hear it. She grabbed the guard's gun and put it into her mouth. She died, Master, blaming me for saving her." My arms tightened further around him, for he was reliving that day, not just telling me about it. I could feel the tremors within him.

"Then, I… well, I went after that girl to see what I could do, but it was too late. I knew it was too late, for she lay there bruised and bleeding and the life seeping away from her. They had heard me coming. They shot her, and I wasn't in time. They shot her and left her there to die on the ground. I tried to cover her, Master, I did, but my owner grabbed me and blamed for the mother's death, and I guess the girl's, too, for he was going to sell her. She would have fetched a good price….he beat me half to death. And I let him – I let him, for all I could think of was their screams, both of them."

Obi-Wan turned in my arms then, and buried his face against me, as he done when he had been young and hurt. He wasn't crying though, it was as if all his tears had been shed long ago.

I stroked the back of his head, and whispered, "Would you like your memories misted over?" I could have taken those memories away from him, or just blurred them, and I wanted to, but that was the worst kind of violation one could do to another, twisting another's mind like that.

We both shuddered at the same time, as I remembered his mind had already been wiped, and he at the thought of someone touching his mind.

_No, not at touching, at taking_.

_Can I share your burden, then, my Obi-Wan_? I silently asked, for I thought that by doing so, perhaps, I could help him live with those memories.

_There is no need_. _My shoulders are strong enough._

_There is every need. Your shoulders have borne this too long, alone_, _and you are already burrowing deep into mine. Feel my arms around you. Let me help you._

He nodded, and as easily as if the past five years had never been, his mind opened to me and I slipped in and relived much of those past five years with him, and he with me. Of course, this kind of mind-sharing is not as complete as it sounds, but enough comes through, augmented by bits and pieces of words, helped by a total and deep understanding of the other, that it seems like a total mind-sharing experience. There still would be more to discover and learn, but I wanted to relieve as much of Obi-Wan's painful memories as I could by helping him draw them into the open and to release them.

_You searched for me, Master_, and it wasn't a question, for he knew - just as I now knew he had tried not to give up hope, even when he didn't remember what hope was.

_I am so very proud of you,_ I smiled at him, though shocked at everything he had endured, pleased at what he remembered. Pleased that there was indeed still a core of happiness within him that the past five years had not stolen from him. Yoda had known that, I knew now. He had seen, clearer than I, what lay deep inside Obi-Wan.

_Master Yoda, I want to see him again_, and I could sense Obi-Wan's longing. He and Yoda had always had a special connection. I looked forward to seeing their reunion.

"We'll see him after we return from Naboo," I said, smiling, and that reminded me that the Naboo were waiting for us. I shouldn't keep them waiting too long.

"Obi-Wan, go clean up, wash the sand of Tatooine off you," I gently prodded him. "When we leave here, you're leaving Tatooine behind forever. Even those blasted particles of sand that get in everywhere."

He smiled and headed off obediently, and I heard the water run for only a short time. Well, this was Tatooine and water was in short supply, so I shouldn't have been surprised.

When I heard the water stop, I knocked on the door, and was actually surprised when Obi-Wan told me to come in. I was only going to hand him his new clothing though the doorway, for I remembered how modest he was and wanted to give him all the time and space he needed. I raised an eyebrow and walked in. He had a towel around his waist and I could see every scar, every bruise that he had accumulated over the last five years. I froze, my mind in absolute shock.

_Oh, Force_, I whispered and put out a shaking hand to touch the newest one, purple and red and yellow and every color I'd ever seen, gracing the side of his chest. I sank to my knees, just stunned at this visible evidence of what I knew from his lips and mind.

He stared at me in surprise, then at the bruise. "It looks worse than it feels," he assured me, as he dropped to my side, his strong hands holding me upright. My poor battered padawan was reassuring me, and once again I knew the strength and compassion within him. The five years had not dulled it, but rather enhanced it.

I knew with absolute certainty that Obi-Wan was ready to be knighted. His skills may have grown rusty, his deft use of the Force uncertain, but the core of him, that part that was Jedi, was ready.

I was ready to let him know how I felt about him.

I had always tried to maintain a distance between us, for I had always been afraid that if he knew how strongly he had me wrapped around his little finger that his knowledge of that power might lead to its corruption. I wouldn't have risked Obi-Wan for anything. I always planned to let him know the depths of my love for him when he was knighted, when he was safe. Suddenly, I couldn't wait.

"I love you, Obi-Wan," I declared, twisting his wet untidy braid through my fingers.

"I know," he said, surprised that I mentioned it. Here we were, two Jedi sitting in a refresher by Force, talking about love. "As I love you."

"No, no, you don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "I've always tried to keep some distance between us, to protect you from the knowledge of just how much I love you. You wormed your way into my empty heart shortly after we bonded, but I never wanted you to know how deeply. You're more than my padawan, you're like the son I'll never have. I never wanted you to know how much you had come to mean to me, until, until… well, until you were knighted."

"But, why?" I had honestly surprised him.

"To protect you. You had such power over me, and I feared the knowledge of so much power might corrupt you."

Obi-Wan actually laughed. Put his head back and laughed, until I was laughing with him. He choked on his laughter, and then got very serious. His hands were clasping my forearms as he leaned forward, gazing deep into my eyes.

"I don't see how love can corrupt, Master. Love gives you strength and hope, and the desire to be better, do better. I always wanted to live up to your love. I knew, oh, I knew."

His eyes were burning with his earnestness, and I saw how both his love for me and mine for him had kept him sane and alive and – pure – these last five years.

It was love of him that had kept me going during those same dark years, only I had been less than I could be for so long, and he so much more. The padawan could still teach the master.


	8. A Symbol Renewed

"My wise padawan," I said gently, and smiled at him. What a gift of the Force he was – not perfect, never perfect, and therefore the more precious. A gentle yet mischievous soul, wise for his years, compassionate despite suffering.

My hand reached out to touch his braid, that poor thing spiky with untamed hair bristling along its length. He had washed it as best he could, but it still held hidden pieces of grit and grime within its coils, and I remembered what had been poured so gently into my palm back at the Temple.

It was time to present my padawan with his gift from Yoda and the Council, to restore him to his position in all ways possible. All those beads he had lost symbolized all of Obi-Wan's hard work and dedication, and I wanted him to know deep in his heart that we, the Jedi, his family, continued to respect and honor him. We were welcoming him home.

Shaking just a little, I told Obi-Wan to undo his braid and nerf tail, and to wash every strand of hair on his head. I saw the sudden tension in him; every muscle of his froze.

"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed. I had sensed nothing in the Force to arouse such a response.

He turned his head and looked at me with an abject plea in his eyes; then the emotion quickly drained away and he looked away from me, trying to still the tremors shaking him.

"What is it?" I asked gently, laying the back of my hand against his cheek in a soft caress, feeling the harsh pitted scales of too dry skin under the surface dampness from his recent shower

"I….I," he tried to say, swallowing hard. "All those years….I refused to let anyone touch it…it was important to me, for some reason I didn't…didn't remember."

I leaned closer to him and looked him in the eyes, eyes now suddenly confused and yet somehow ashamed of his reaction. I understood, now. He had clung to it without knowing why, somehow knowing it connected him to something. To protect it was an instinct now ingrained within him. To undo his braid was to undo him.

"Perfectly natural, padawan," I whispered, taking hold of the braid and holding it in my hand, in front of him. His eyes left my face to stare at it and I made my voice as soothing as I could.

"It was something to hold onto, and you held onto it – I can tell by the pitiful state it's in. But it's me, Obi-Wan, the one who put it there. I'm going to put it back again, okay? It's a symbol only, really, and we used to regularly reweave it. Remember, padawan? You won't lose who you are by my undoing it. You're not even losing it; you're getting it back all clean and neat and tidy once you've washed all that sand and grit out of it. I'm here, to reweave it for you. You aren't losing it, padawan, you're getting it back. A proper braid."

He blinked at me, and nodded once. I carefully unfastened it and held the ends in my hand, looking for any sign of distress. He gave me a shaky smile, and caught my hands within his, callused and hard, and ever so gentle as they enfolded mine. I held my breath, not sure what the gesture meant, until he squeezed them, hard, then released my hands.

"Is it okay, padawan? I need you to wash it clean. A new beginning, to your old life."

I could see he didn't understand my need that he do this, nor was he yet comfortable with the idea, not really. He trusted me however; even after five years he trusted me implicitly. His hands worked with me as we uncoiled the braid. I knew one day soon it would be resting in my hand as I faced Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi for the first time. I could hardly wait for that day.

The strands finally hung, limp and grimy in my hand, and I clucked sadly at it.

"You used to be so tidy," I mock-admonished him, and a small grin split his face. "Now wash it clean, so you can start fresh."

I threatened to pull his towel off and throw him back into the shower if he didn't obey. He merely grinned at me, which was a surprise in itself, and before I could blink, he had done so for himself and jumped back in the shower to get his head scrubbed clean this time.

Well, the past five years had certainly taken his modesty away. While that was good, for a Jedi had no need of modesty or other false emotions, it was one more thing my padawan had lost, and I was a bit sad.

It did give me a chance to study anew the bruises and contusions and scars, and see that it was not limited to just his chest. His shoulders and back, especially, showed the scars of repeated beatings, as if the skin had been shredded and had healed several times. Not even his legs were immune, though they seemed in better shape.

The water droplets blurred and softened the marks as they slid down his body; I'm sure they looked worse than what my eyes saw. I brushed my hand across my face; some of the blurriness was within me – more tears, again.

The cleansing water was washing the marks away, I told myself, but such marks were not so easily removed. Sometimes, the scars stayed forever.

I handed him more towels and as he dried off, I opened the medkit I had with me and laid some bacta patches over the worst of the scars. The bacta would help the scars to disappear. I wished there were bacta patches for the mind.

As he turned to face me, tying the towel back around his waist, I couldn't help saying dryly, "you've grown up a lot these last five years. Even have some hair on your chest."

He blinked at me, and grinned. Actually grinned. With each grin, each smile, my heart was healing and the lost years were dropping away. I handed him his underclothing and pants. I had my back to him, searching for the tool I needed, when his amused voice broke the silence.

"They're soft. Actually soft."

"What's soft?" I asked absently.

"The clothing. The underclothing especially. This didn't come from the Temple cleaners, unless they've improved in the last five years."

"For you, Obi-Wan, only the best. I went to the best, okay closest, shop on Coruscant for them. Several pair actually. I almost got you the rainbow pack; no one would have ever known."

"I would have," he said, and shuddered in mock horror.

"You might actually look rather fetching in, oh, say, Coruscant Coral, or how about Starlight Silver satin?"

"Force forbid it, no, no, and no," he protested shrilly. "I'd rather go without."

"Brat," I said kindly, and thrilled at being able to tease him so. So much had been missing from my life, I knew, things I hadn't even realized.

It wasn't just Obi-Wan – it was the banter, the teasing and the laughter. The exchanged grins. The sharing of a funny story – I remembered the times we had been bent over in laughter over some shared memories and laughed all the harder for knowing none of our colleagues would believe it of us. We kept our mirth and our silliness for ourselves, when we could relax and just be Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan at home.

"Here, before you put the tunic on," I said, turning around with the implement I had brought with me. "I want to get that slave chip out of you and I came prepared. You're leaving this planet a Jedi, my young padawan, and you're never going to look back, you hear?"

He nodded, suddenly somber, as I held the device to his shoulder and depressed the stud. It must have been at least a little painful, but after all that he had been through, he didn't blink. I pulled the chip from the tool and looked at it, and then with a soft curse, I dropped it on the floor and ground it into little pieces under my heel.

Obi-Wan watched; then turned his head to look at me, and his eyes were soft with tears, slowly trickling down his cheeks. They were only the second ones I'd seen from him in years.

"Thank you, Master." He was whispering, and I knew how much all this meant to him. I tousled his hair and grinned at him, as he finished dressing in silence. When he was ready, he turned to me with a quizzical look on his face, for he had caught sight of me in the looking glass with a huge grin on my face.

"Turn around," I said and positioned him in front of the glass. I first pulled his hair back into a neat nerf-tail and secured it, then started on his braid. As I rewove it, starting with the bonding bead, I made him hold his hand out and dropped the rest of the beads into it.

"Hold them for me," I said, grabbing one and weaving it in. "Hey," I closed my hand over his as it started to shake. He had just realized what he was holding. I peered into the glass to see that he was crying, and at the realization, I started crying, too. Force, I hadn't cried this much since – since I had lost Obi-Wan. Perhaps it was only fitting that I cry this much when I had him back.

"Don't do that," I said hoarsely, and his tears only came harder. I turned him around and pulled his face against my shoulder, patting him on the back.

"Okay, then, cry, but I want you to cry until you've cried all your tears out. You're going to leave your tears behind you on this forsaken planet, and you are going to remember to release all your emotions into the Force as a good Jedi does."

"Mmhhm," something muffled was said against my chest. I frowned. _What?_

_Only if you remember to set a good example, Master._ He was torn between laughter and tears, and I had to smile through my own. "We'll work on that exercise once we leave here. The tears stop here. They stay here. Okay, Obi-Wan?" His face nodded against me, and we both had to use a towel to dry off afterwards.

"Let's finish getting your braid back into shape. Those Naboo are going to be dazzled by you when I'm done with you."

This time, as I rewove the braid – I had to start again – Obi-Wan's eyes were shining in the looking glass, and I found myself stopping and smiling at his reflection. The past was behind us, we were leaving it behind.

We were walking into our future, together again.


	9. Rediscovery Reeducation & Reminiscences

I hurried Obi-Wan back to the Naboo ship, both of us huddled within our cloaks against the ever-present swirls of sand. I kept in front of him, trying to shield him from the worst of the grit. He had suffered enough. I was determined that Tatooine was not going to touch him again, not one speck of sand if I could help it.

I grinned rather wryly to myself at all my efforts to clean the reminders of the planet and his suffering off Obi-Wan, only to lead him on a long walk through the sand to the ship.

He must have been thinking along the same lines, for when I turned to check on him – again – he gave me a wicked grin and offered dryly, "I thought you said we were leaving Tatooine behind, Master, not bringing ten pounds of sand with us, each."

I merely sighed and shook my head. Sometimes, even Jedi masters don't think of all the consequences of a decision. We finally reached the ship, and I reached over to him, took his cloak in my hand and shook it briskly. I followed that with a brief and strong wave of the Force, using it to dislodge more grit and sand.

"Final touch," I said, producing a crisp square and wiping his face around the hairline, dusting his face and dabbing at the long lashes now burnished with flecks of sand. I stepped back and looked him over, and nodded to myself. I turned around and placed one foot on the ramp, and hesitated for just a second, then extended my arm and pulled him next to me.

"We leave the past behind us," I said softly. "It's over – the long nightmare is over. Gods, Obi-Wan…," my voice cracked once, and I pulled him into a quick, hard hug.

"Master, I'll be okay," he said, his voice muffled against my shoulder. "Release your emotion into the Force, isn't that the idea? See, I haven't forgotten…I remember. My memories weren't wiped; not truly; I hid everything somewhere deep inside my mind where the wipe couldn't reach. You were the key to unlocking them. Thank you, Master, for unlocking my mind. Thank you for coming after me."

"Oh, Obi-Wan," I murmured, pushing him back to arms length and studying his face. "Thank you for surviving. Thank you for forgiving me."

I saw he was swallowing back a sob. "Thank you for not giving up…so, let's move forward." He dashed a hand across his eyes and grinned at me. The past was truly behind us now.

"Come then, let me introduce you to our traveling companions."

The ramp closed behind us, and the ship lifted off Tatooine. _Don't look back_, my heart whispered to Obi-Wan. _It's behind you, forever_. It was behind me, also. For the first time in five long years, I felt at peace.

My heart swelled with pride as I glanced at my companion just before we entered the room where the Queen and her party waited to greet us. Obi-Wan looked the very picture of a perfect Jedi padawan, neat and clean, bright-eyed and quiet, standing tall beside me with his arms tucked loosely within his sleeves.

"Are you ready to pick up your life, my young Padawan?" I asked. He turned his head to look at me and the smile in his eyes assured me as much as the readiness I sensed within him.

Our bond was stronger than ever, after almost dissolving from disuse, and I knew that the bright glow in the corner of my mind that was my padawan would never be extinguished. It might lie quiet after his knighting, but the bond would never be severed if I had any say in the matter.

"I am ready, Master." His voice was firm and showed no sign of the tears that had so drained him mere hours ago. For that matter, I was just as exhausted from that emotional storm, and I showed no sign of it, either.

I led the way to the assembled Naboo, as well as Anakin. I had forgotten about him, and I hoped he wouldn't say anything now that would bring up painful memories for Obi-Wan. I smiled at him, and bowed to the Queen.

The Queen sat on her raised chair, as always dressed formally in ornate robes of state and face painted white with a red beauty mark on her lip. Her four handmaidens were arrayed loosely around her, faces half hidden within their hoods. The guards were at rest around the room, but even at rest, their eyes were restless and watchful.

I noticed all eyes passed over me, but took careful measure of my padawan. He seemed not to notice, though I noticed his sharp eyes were taking notice of everything around him. That quiet and unobtrusive watchfulness was somewhat new to me – he had always observed, but observation was now watchfulness. The hard years had left a mark on him.

"My companion, my padawan, Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi," I introduced him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw young Anakin squirm, but he kept silent, half glaring at Obi-Wan. I wondered why. He had no cause for enmity.

"I thank you for detouring out of your way to pick me up, Your Highness," Obi-Wan said smoothly and bowed. I smiled inside, for he had lost none of his diplomatic touch, and he made it sound as if was pure coincidence we had met here, rather than elsewhere.

"Were you long on Tatooine, Master Kenobi?" the Queen asked politely. I froze, but Obi-Wan handled it better than I.

"I was – detained there – for a while, yes," he agreed smoothly, though his brow furrowed. "I was pleased when my master was able to arrange a pick up. I must admit I am pleased to be away from there." He grinned, a boyish grin, and I wanted to applaud him.

_I am okay, truly I am_, his mind whispered to me.

The strange thing is - he really was. It was as if lifting off Tatooine had lifted a burden from him. He had been changed by his experience, but he was letting it strengthen him rather than weaken him, and I could feel the Force surge through him, clean and strong, and full of light.

_I am so very proud of you, my padawan._

_Everything I am is due to your teachings, Master. _

Of course I was touched, but I only guided him on his path. He was, ultimately, what he chose to be. I only had a little hand in shaping him into the fine man, and fine Jedi, that he was.

With the formal greetings over, I went over and squatted by young Anakin and tousled his hair. "You remember Obi-Wan, don't you?" He nodded, a wary look in his eye.

This was awkward, I just now realized. Anakin was too young, and Obi-Wan perhaps still too wounded, for them to be contending for my attention. I had much work to do with Obi-Wan, and yet Anakin couldn't be ignored.

"It's okay, Master, I will familiarize myself with the ship," Obi-Wan offered, and slipped away with a small smile of understanding. Once again, he had proved his compassion and strength, for he had put young Anakin's needs before his.

"You chose me over him after the race, and left him there, a slave. How can I be your padawan if he is?" Anakin demanded when we were alone. Now I began to understand Anakin's confusion, as well as his anger at Obi-Wan. He knew as long as Obi-Wan was my padawan, he could not be.

I sighed, for that was the problem. I knew Obi-Wan was all but ready to be knighted, but would the Council agree? Unless the trials were formalized, there was no certainty that the Council would come to the same conclusion I had, and I had no pull with them. I tried to keep my uncertainty from my voice.

"Everything will work out as the Force wishes," I answered him.

"Did the Force wish for Mom and me to be slaves? For him?" he challenged me. "How come you freed him, but not Mom? How come he's that important that you would forget about Mom? You could have freed Mom, except all you could think about was him. It's his fault - I hate him."

I rocked back on my feet, for I didn't really have an answer to that. I couldn't free every slave, but had I had enough to buy Anakin's mother, too? I _had_ been so focused on getting my own padawan back, that I had thought of nothing else. Some of my anguish must have shown in my face, for Anakin's face screwed up with pain.

"Don't blame Obi-Wan, Ani, please. It wasn't his fault, it was mine." I tried to reach out and take his hand, but he turned away from me.

"Ani?" I murmured, my heart heavy within me, for I had never meant to hurt him. It seemed whenever I tried to help either Anakin or Obi-Wan, I ended up hurting the other.

It was Obi-Wan who found me, some time later, sitting in silent reflection in a quiet stateroom. He entered and sat by me, saying nothing, waiting for me to speak. He sensed my roiling thoughts. Now, he was the calm one anchoring me, rather than the reverse. When had he become this rock, this anchor?

"I never thought of freeing her," I said numbly. I turned and looked Obi-Wan in the eyes, took his head between my hands and smiled at him. "I was so focused on you, Obi-Wan. I never once thought. Anakin's mother – Shmi."

He was silent, letting me speak, his eyes soft. Somehow he understood what I was speaking about, though I don't think he had known that Shmi was Anakin's mother.

"I should have tried to free her, too. I didn't even try."

He put a hand on my shoulder in silent comfort, and we sat together in silence for some time. I finally pulled myself out of my regrets, and looked at him with a smile.

"How are you handling things, my padawan?"

"It's strange, but I almost feel as if I've never been gone from your side," he said with a little laugh as if he couldn't believe it himself. "I guess my training stuck with me, or I wish to forget the last few years, but I'm happy. I'm home where I belong."

His shining eyes were the proof of that. He was letting go of the past, letting the pain flow out into the Force, and he was looking forward, not back.

"Speaking of training," I said with a grin and climbed to my feet. "Let's try a few katas and see how rusty you've become."

"I think I'll surprise you," he said easily, and chuckled. The closest he would come to explaining was to say that his all of his memories had returned since our meeting on Tatooine, less than a month ago.

There was so much of our years apart we still had not discussed fully, even with sharing our experiences through the bond. I knew enough and could guess, that Obi-Wan had been able to salvage something during those long years without knowing what he was doing or why.

We still had much to explore, but I couldn't face it, not yet. The scar was too raw, for me, for it was apparent that had I found him so many years ago, he would have been spared so much.

He did surprise me, until he explained that even when he didn't know what he was doing or why, he had practiced them all those years. Muscle memory, of course. In his free time, what little there was, he had practiced, and I could see it in his lithe and graceful flowing movements. He had also found time to meditate, and I marveled at that, for from what I had seen of his life, I would have expected exhausted sleep to overtake him every waking moment.

That was one less worry for me. Obi-Wan was obviously physically fit, and would be quick to regain his fighting form. He just needed some fattening up, rest, and time.

My other concern was his connection to the Force. He had regained it, but it seemed shaky and tentative, as if he were fourteen again and working to gain that sure touch that would come with practice and time.

I needed him to find that before he faced the Council, for they would demand more of him than I, to prove his fitness and readiness to be a knight.

I remembered I had another surprise for my padawan. With a small flourish, I pulled a silver cylinder from my belt and handed it to him and watched his eyes open in surprise and wonder. It was his lightsaber.

He turned it over and around, marveling at the feel of it in his hand and I could feel the Force swirling around him. He finally looked at me, and the bright shining wonder that was his eyes almost brought me to my knees. I had expected tears, again but he truly had left them behind him. This was pleasure, joy, and satisfaction.

He suddenly smiled that radiant smile I loved, and hugged me. Before I could hug him back, he released me and sat down on a seat heavily, looking at the lightsaber.

"I found it on Phindar, after they took you away," I said softly. "I saved it for the day you returned to the Jedi. To me." I blinked back a tear.

"Master. I don't know what to say…." I could see a muscle in his jaw tense and relax. He finally looked at me, and smiled.

"Thank you," he whispered, and I could feel the same thanks come through the bond. When Obi-Wan was most moved, he spoke both ways at once. I had forgotten that, and the joy that memory sparked in me moved me.

"Shall we try a little easy sparring?" I suggested, and before the words were out of my mouth, Obi-Wan was on his feet and his blade ignited in readiness. "I guess that was a yes," I said dryly and got to my feet.

We went easy, at least at first, as Obi-Wan found his balance and the moves came back to him. Our sparring was always like a dance to me, and it was light and easy, as it should be. "A little faster, Master?" he challenged me with a raised eyebrow, and I was happy to oblige.

We went at it for several hours, I think, until I saw the sweat rolling down his face and realized he must be exhausted from everything that had happened this last day. I knew I was.

"You remembered, padawan. You have done well," I complimented him. "Now, close your eyes. Reach into the Force, good…no, don't fight for it. Let it come to you. Relax, Obi-Wan, don't be so tense. Relax…." I smiled as he connected with the Force. "Hold onto it – no, don't grasp it, it's not tangible. You've always tried to grab it, and you end up pushing it away half the time. Relax, that's it…be at peace with it, let it fill you, flow through you. Remember that feeling. Now open your eyes."

My blade was spinning towards him. His hand blurred as his arm rose into the air and his lightsaber deflected my cut and returned to his side. He blinked, and I smiled.

"Good. See, you haven't lost your touch. Remember that feeling, how you let the Force into you when you need it or it demands access. That's what you most need to work on at this time. You were too long alone without the Force and this is what I want you to concentrate on. Reconnect to the Force."

I could see lines of weariness in the skin around his eyes as well feeling his exhaustion. He was all but drooping. He didn't protest, merely nodded.

"It would be night on Tatooine and you are tired. Go to bed my padawan and rest; we will have more time before we arrive on Naboo," I said gently. "You have done well."

I didn't want to hover over him, so I waited a while before I went in and sat on an empty bunk across from him, finding comfort by remaining near him. He was sprawled on his stomach, or as sprawled as the bunk allowed and I sensed he was already half way asleep.

I sat there near his side until his breathing slowed and he slept, keeping watch over him, as if he would disappear if I let him out of my sight. Once we left the ship, I knew I would have to treat him as an adult, a Jedi, and I would have to stop thinking of him as my hurt and lost boy who I needed to protect.

I was already treating him – mainly – as I would have without this five year interruption, but my heart was protesting my treatment of him.

Or, more likely, protesting its wish to treat him like the young man he had been when I last knew him, when I had been guardian, protector and mentor. He was of legal age now, and I was his master, and his friend. I still wished to be his protector; needed to protect him from further harm.

He wasn't a child needing my protection; he was again a Jedi, strong and confident and capable of protecting himself. He didn't need me to comfort him, though he would accept it with thanks. I needed to offer it, though, as penance for leaving him to his fate.

It was my heart that needed the most comfort out of all of us.


	10. In the Silence of the Night

I left Obi-Wan sleeping peacefully and went in search of Anakin. He was talking to Padme, once again. She was a kind young woman, willing to spend time listening to a young boy, and I deeply appreciated her consideration. I tousled the boy's hair as I slid into a seat next to him and greeted Padme with a quick hello.

"Were you two separated long? You've been holed up with him for hours," Padme asked, a twinkle in her eye. "Or is it Jedi business?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," I said. How could I explain the five years separation? I would not speak of his slavery either, for that part of his life was for him to speak of or not. Padme seemed to know there was something left unspoken, but she didn't press me. Once again, I thought she was a wise woman. The Queen was a smart woman, if she surrounded herself with such wise handmaidens.

I looked at Anakin. He looked like he wanted to speak, perhaps to tell Padme about Obi-Wan, perhaps that I had not thought to free his mother. I shook my head at him, and he pursed his lips but remained silent.

Padme excused herself. I think she knew I wanted to speak to Anakin. I waited until she left the room and then I leaned forward and tried to catch Anakin's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ani," I said softly. I waited for him to look at me. He had such beautiful blue eyes. They weren't near as wise as Obi-Wan's, or as quick, but they were just as important to me.

"I truly am sorry, Ani. It was my fault I never thought of your mother. Don't blame Obi-Wan for that. You know how much you miss your mother; well I missed Obi-Wan just as much and we'd been parted much longer. Not just that, but I didn't even know if he was alive or dead for so long. Every thing in me was focused on rescuing him. I am so sorry, Ani. Forgive me?"

He stared at me, before swallowing hard and nodding. "What happens if they agree to let me be trained, and he's not allowed to advance? Which one of us will be your padawan? You said I'd be. You promised."

I had only promised him he'd be a Jedi. I never promised he'd be my padawan, despite my offer to take him on, but he would see it as a betrayal if I denied that. The other choice was to betray Obi-Wan. I couldn't do that to him, either. I saw no easy answer, only hard questions. I was trapped, and the only escape was for the Council to agree with my assessment of Obi-Wan's abilities.

"You should go to bed, Ani," I said. "It's been a rather long day. I'll come along later. Go." I shooed him away, and sat with my head in my hands. It had been a long, emotional day and I was exhausted and worried.

I followed shortly after, for the Queen had given the Jedi use of one four-person stateroom. I paused in the doorway between the sleeping and the sitting area as I heard soft whispers. Anakin was speaking, and I was curious if he was talking in his sleep, to Obi-Wan, or with Obi-Wan.

I wanted those two to get along, for they were the two most important people in my life and I was afraid circumstances would keep them wary of each other. I could blame neither if that were so.

"Yes, maybe it was stupid of me not to scream when he beat me. That's what he wanted, I know. I guess I'm just too stubborn to have given him that satisfaction. I accepted it, for I had no way of fighting back, except by keeping silent. So I won, in a way – what – well, yes, perhaps I won a few extra bruises, too. Maybe I _was_ stupid," and I heard a low chuckle.

Anakin murmured something again. Even straining to hear, I couldn't hear his words.

"No, Anakin, I don't resent you," I heard Obi-Wan say softly. The bunk creaked slightly and I could almost see him shift within it. "Why should I? Qui-Gon did the right thing by freeing you when he did. I know it wasn't easy for him, but it was the right decision."

I heard the sincerity in his tone, and hoped Anakin did, too. My heart swelled with pride. I wouldn't have blamed Obi-Wan at all should he have been even a small bit hurt at my decision. Perhaps he had been, but had too quickly released it for me to catch.

Another low murmur from Anakin that I couldn't catch

"I'm so sorry about your mother. If I had known, I would have asked Qui-Gon to save her before me. I could have survived there. I would have been okay."

I had to close my eyes at that. Obi-Wan hadn't known about Anakin's mother. He had known so little, really, only that I believed in this boy and that he was the prophesized Chosen One. Obi-Wan had trusted me, believed in me. It was that simple.

He had always trusted me. He hadn't always agreed with me, and I hadn't always trusted him. But his trust and his love were gifts of the Force. I felt tears come to my eyes.

How I had missed him. Even when he was gone from my care, should Anakin be my padawan, Obi-Wan would always be foremost in my heart, for it was he who had allowed me to love again. To trust again.

I suddenly felt a smile through the bond. Obi-Wan had just realized I was standing in the doorway. His next words were as much for me as Anakin.

"If Qui-Gon says you'll be a Jedi, you will be. You can trust him, if he says something will be, it will. If he says he believes in you, he does. If he says he loves you, he does. He's the best Jedi in the Order."

"Yes, Master Yoda is," I said lightly. "Okay, boys, I said time to sleep, not to talk."

_Thank you, Obi-Wan_.

I sat outside in the small seating area, somehow knowing that once Anakin fell asleep, Obi-Wan would join me, unless he, too, fell asleep. I could feel the weariness within him, but soon he padded out and sat by my side, his cloak pulled around for warmth. He shivered, and I offered my cloak to supplement his. He shook his head, as if what chilled him was something else.

"Come here, you're never too old for my arms," I said gently, as I pulled him against me. He relaxed and his head rolled back against my shoulder and we sat there comfortably, my arm around his shoulder.

How I had grieved for the loss of such simple moments as this – fleeting and precious.

After the most disquieting of missions, the heartbreak or the horrors we'd seen, always, sitting with my padawan's head resting against my shoulder and my head against his – somehow – this connection had brought peace and healing to minds fatigued and shaken.

I had been slow to accept this comfort, and offer it in return, in the beginning. After one particularly harrowing mission, I had sat exhausted and dispirited, too tired to object when Obi-Wan quietly sat next to me and leaned his head against me. Without thinking, my arm had gone around his shoulders and he sighed softly, his own anguish eased. In that same moment, when I saw the peace on his face, I felt it in my heart.

I had never objected again – and accepted it as a blessing of the Force.

"I missed our sunsets," Obi-Wan suddenly said.

I almost frowned, and then I smiled. He remembered our habit of watching the sunset together, when we were at the Temple between missions.

"Tatooine had pretty sunsets, but they weren't the same, without you. Somehow, they were lonely, and hinting of things I couldn't remember, but missed." His tone was wistful, and I wished we were on a planet, where we could share a sunset side by side as we had so often done in the past.

I felt a pang as I realized how he must have stared at the sunsets, longing for something he sensed was absent, even as I had turned away from them, denying that anything was absent.

So I spoke softly into his ear, describing the most beautiful sunset I could imagine, painting a sunset that only we could see, as we sat together watching it in our mind. I filled our bond with colors, every color I could describe and more, and I felt Obi-Wan relax even more. His happiness was so tangible I wanted to cry, but I stuffed it down. That could wait for the dark hours of the night, when all around me was peaceful.

This time was for Obi-Wan, and I would make it as joyful and happy as I could, to make up for the five years alone. That was a glorious sunset, that one I spun for us both, and the longest one in the history of the universe, for it lasted until I felt Obi-Wan fall asleep against me.

I had chosen my seat wisely, for I was able to lean into a corner and make him comfortable against me. I hadn't held him in so long and I wasn't about to let him go. Ever again.

I had never been a particularly demonstrative man, so this need to touch, to hold onto my padawan surprised me. I studied his face in the dim light.

He had grown up; his was the face of a man, now, the soft roundness of his cheeks turned hollow these last years. He had hardened, if that was the word I wanted, from a young man to an adult, and I could see the beginnings of stubble on his face. There were lines there, too, softer in his sleep, which had not been there years before.

He had grown up without me, and had remained true to who he was. I hoped life would forever be kind to him for the rest of his days.

"Force, how I missed you, Obi-Wan," I said, choking a little. He stirred and opened his eyes and smiled at me. "Brat, you were faking," I shook him.

"No," he said, with an infuriating grin and a yawn both vying to control his mouth. "You were speaking. You know I always listen to what my master says."

"Oh, Force, Obi-Wan, I'm so, so sorry," I whispered, gathering him to me, practically choking the breath out of him. He put a finger over my lips and shook his head.

"A Jedi never looks back, only forward. One can only do what one thinks is right at each moment, and move forward. So you taught me. My master is a wise man." He sat up and leaned against my shoulder and this time his comforting arm went around my shoulders. I had almost to laugh, for I'm a much bigger man than he, and his hand finally had to rest on my neck, for it couldn't reach my arm.

"Teach me, Master. What have I missed these past years?"

I had an easy answer to that.

"You already had the skills you need, Obi-Wan. What you would have learned these last years would have been deepening your control and refining those skills you already possess. You would have learned a deeper understanding of yourself and others, wisdom, the harnessing of your feelings and self-knowledge so that you could continue to guide yourself on the path. I believe you have learned these things on your own. The trials are nothing but the test of your self-knowledge, more than your skills. Remember when I took you to Ilum and you constructed your lightsaber, and the fears you had to face? That was but a small part of the trials you face when you become a knight."

I could sense him trying to absorb all this, for such lessons usually came after one passed the trials and was formally knighted. Each padawan feared the trials, and each knight found out he or she had passed tests they hadn't even been aware of taking.

I didn't dare say too much, for it was not my place, but something told me I needed to tell Obi-Wan some things I would not have otherwise.

"That calm center I always told you to find – it's the core of a Jedi, for we feel fear, anger and pain." I had struggled with all these after Obi-Wan's loss; I knew what I spoke of. My voice got a bit raspy, and I think Obi-Wan realized, for his arm tightened around me.

"We can't let those emotions guide us, especially in battle, so we have to find a way to control them. You used to have such trouble finding that, but I sense you have finally found it within you. When you told me to take Anakin away, there was no pain, or fear, or anger in you. Only acceptance."

"It did hurt, Master," he whispered, afraid he was disappointing me. His deepest fear was of disappointing me. He turned to look at me, and his eyes seemed to search mine for forgiveness and understanding. "It did, but I understood. It was right."

Understanding I could give him, but forgiveness? How could I tell him I didn't forgive him, that there was nothing he needed to be forgiven for? He had done nothing wrong, felt nothing he should not have. I had told him many times that emotions were not wrong, never wrong, all that was important was how we acted on them.

"No, Obi-Wan, it was both right and it was wrong, but sometimes we have to face hard choices. I was angry, oh Force, I was so angry I could hardly control myself, but I had to. If you were hurting, you controlled it well. Like a Jedi. You had found your calm center, and you acted from a position of strength and goodness. That helped me find mine; it was your strength that allowed me to find mine. And I had to leave you behind a second time. Gods, how that hurt. I left you, twice."

My breath caught in my throat, and I found Obi-Wan holding my head and forcing me to look at him.

"It's all right, Master, it's all right. You acted as a Jedi," he said gently. He opened his heart to me, through our bond, and there was nothing there but love and understanding. I wrapped that around me, a veil that sealed my own hurting heart until I thought that his heart was beating for us both. "Accept it, Master, don't look back. Never look back."

"When did you get so wise, padawan mine?" My voice was cracked and hoarse.

"When I listened to my master," he said. I knuckled my eyes to wipe a tear away and took a shaky breath.

"Padawan, you will make a very good master someday. Now, I think we both should go to bed. It's been a very, wet-," I saw his smile and I grinned back at him, "very wet day for us both. We need our sleep, so we can stop this insane crying."

"Yes, Master," he said serenely, and offered me a hand up. We were both in our bunks, when he sent a mental picture of a sunset at me.

Goodnight, Obi-Wan," I said and fell asleep with a smile on my face.


	11. From A Certain Point of View

Obi-Wan had awoken before me, and was sitting in quiet reflection when I padded out the next morning. I raised an eyebrow, for he had never been the first to rise in the mornings, and many were the times I had hauled him out of bed feet first. I had Force-yelled "mornin'" through the bond once, but that had less than desirable results. He had jumped so high, he had banged his head and spent the day in bed with a headache.

"You're up early," I said as I sat down across from him. "You must have slept well."

He looked at me, and I sensed his unspoken thought.

He was as perceptive as ever, and I sighed. Yes, I had lain awake for quite some time when I had first awoken in the middle of the night. I had so many emotions warring in me – joy and relief at having Obi-Wan back at my side, concern over Anakin's future, some anxiety and apprehension over the Queen's decision to try to free her planet – and I had shed some tears over the lost years.

Now it was time to admit perhaps my greatest fear.

"I think I battled a Sith when we left Naboo that first time, when, ah, when –" Obi-Wan leaned forward and put a hand on my knee and said firmly, "don't."

"Uh, don't what?" he confused me.

"Don't dwell on it. You had to take Anakin away; you needed to get to Coruscant. I understand, Master. It was the right thing to do. Say it – when you took Anakin away."

I couldn't look at him. "When I had to leave you - ."

"No, Master. When you took Anakin away." He suddenly grinned, that teasing grin I had missed, that could chivvy me out of a dark mood. "Your focus determines your reality," he intoned in a deep voice, sounding like Mace Windu in his grimmest mood. I couldn't help it – I laughed.

I threw my head back and laughed until the tears streamed down my face, and I leaned forward and hugged my padawan.

"You win," I said. "You're right. Brat."

"You were saying something about a Sith," he prompted me, grounding me. He grew tense, only half-believing me, yet trusting my judgment.

"A Sith. I'm sure, Obi-Wan. He surprised me, when Anakin and I were almost back to the ship. I fought him, and it was not easy. He is skilled in the Force and we were well matched. I don't know how it might have ended but Anakin ran ahead and warned the Naboo, and they flew to my rescue. I'm getting older, Obi-Wan."

I held up a hand to forestall his words of protest. "We may meet him again, and I will need you. We have only a few days - we really have to focus on brushing up your skills – both with the lightsaber and with your connection to the Force. I'm going to push you, hard, but I have a feeling I _have_ to push you more than I ever had to before. Are you up to it, Obi-Wan?"

I knew his answer before he even replied. I could see it in his set jaw and nod.

"I am ready, Qui-Gon."

That use of my name, rather than title, brought home to me just how prepared he was. He was meeting me, Jedi to Jedi, not padawan to master. I knew, once again, what a Jedi he was becoming and I was never more proud of him.

"Breakfast first," I insisted.

After breakfast I saw Obi-Wan try valiantly to get acquainted with Jar Jar, and I had to watch from a distance with a small grin on my face. Jar Jar was - rather excitable a creature - and I remembered Obi-Wan's easy dismissal of such beings as "pathetic life forms."

That was more a joke than a reality, for he treated all with innate kindness and courtesy, but my padawan was not drawn to all living creatures as I was. His strength had never been his connection to the Living Force, and he was slow to see the potential in those appearing to have none.

When he excused himself and returned to my side, he threw me a look that amused me. "I saw you were trying to make friends with our resident 'pathetic life form,'" I teased him, and Obi-Wan only rolled his eyes.

"I tried, Master, I tried," he said, shaking his head. "Where ever did you pick him up, and why?"

"His purpose will reveal itself in time, padawan," I said serenely, though I, too, was curious why the Force had called him to my attention.

We secluded ourselves all day, working tirelessly. I was pleased, for Obi-Wan had kept up his physical training and needed only to regain his rhythm and focus. His touch with the Force was less certain, for he had not been aware of his connection to it unless some need pulled it to him. The return of his memory had brought back a lot, though, and he remembered his lessons, as well as his strengths and weaknesses in connecting to it.

I also knew that meeting me on Tatooine had unlocked the remainder of his missing memories, and he had spent the time since then in tireless pursuit, when possible, of regaining all that he had lost.

"Master, I wish to meditate for a while," he suddenly spoke up, wiping the sweat from his face. As his hand came up to brush his face, he shot me a look to send my attention over to the doorway. Anakin stood there hesitantly, and I suddenly realized he had been standing there watching us for some time. Obi-Wan's eyes were telling me to spend some time with the boy, and he had just given me an excuse.

I hesitated, for I had this feeling I could not waste any of the time I had: I had to get Obi-Wan into the best shape I could in the time I had. We would encounter that Sith again, and Obi-Wan needed every edge and every skill he had ever possessed.

As would I.

That also meant I could not drive both of us into total exhaustion. Obi-Wan was right. Again. I powered my lightsaber down and told Anakin to come in. Obi-Wan hung around a while to exchange a few words with the boy, enough to make it seem he wasn't leaving on Anakin's account, before leaving for a quiet room. He nodded at me as he left, as if to say, I really am going to meditate.

Anakin was full of questions, and I could see he was impressed with our lightsaber training. Up to then, I didn't think he was too impressed with Obi-Wan, though I know my personality tended to overpower his quieter one. In addition, Obi-Wan was far closer in age to Anakin than I, and a rival to boot, though I hoped to stamp that out as quickly as possible.

Having seen Obi-Wan hold his own against me seemed to have improved Anakin's opinion of Obi-Wan though. That was good.

Anakin and I talked, and it became more and more clear he had unusual abilities. I wanted to try some work with him, but I was constrained by the Council's directives. What I could do was to let Anakin remain in the room while I worked with Obi-Wan. He could learn much from observation.

I took a break myself, and when I returned Obi-Wan was squatting on the floor by Anakin, showing him the items in his equipment belt and explaining their uses. I leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, and a grin on my face.

Obi-Wan was spinning some fanciful versions of some real-life incidents to explain how some of them worked, and I shook my head. Anakin was entranced, both by the stories and the tools. I had never known Obi-Wan to so stretch the truth before. I was amused.

Obi-Wan was in the middle of some long-winded and totally absurd story of using the cable launcher, when I decided to intervene.

"And he forgot to test it was anchored firmly, and he plummeted right past me. I had to use a grappling hook to catch him," I said.

Obi-Wan looked up, startled, and merely grinned. "You never had a grappling hook, Master," he said firmly.

"Then how did I catch you?" I challenged him. He shrugged, and I gave him a smug smile. "That's the story from a certain point of view."

We both laughed, though Anakin didn't catch the reference. As Jedi, we didn't lie, but sometimes on a mission we tried desperately hard not to reveal some information. We were experts on finding a "certain point of view" that would allow us to say what we needed to, even if, strictly speaking, it wasn't the truth.

"Master, that truly happened," he whispered to me. I looked at him, startled, for I didn't remember it and he laughed lightly. "To Garen, the first time he tried using it. I never said it happened to me."

"Well, you forgot to anchor it once, and I once had to use a grappling hook to catch a man, too," I whispered back. "Just different occurrences."

Anakin was catching on to our whispers, so I made the "change the subject" gesture to Obi-Wan. I saw he hadn't forgotten the signals we Jedi sometimes used, and that pleased me inordinately. He could have lost so much – had really, but seemed to have regained it all.

I could feel my gut twist at the thought of him having to start over, or never regaining his memory – and I pushed the thought firmly out of mind. Obi-Wan was back, healthy, and with memory intact. That was my focus.

We spent the rest of the day working on Obi-Wan's connection to the Force and all the associated skills. As much of that work was internal and hard to observe, Anakin got bored and wandered off, probably to talk to Padme. He seemed to have gotten rather fond of her, and I was pleased he had a friend.

Obi-Wan had learnt patience and calm during the last five years, but I needed to know he could call on it in actual battle, especially as I feared we might be battling a Sith. I made sure we were safely secured within the emptiest space I could find before I began testing him, and then I did my best to trick him into rage, fear, whatever strong negative emotion I could dredge up and fling at him. I had to put him into a light trance for this, for he had to believe in whatever scene I created, and he had to be aware enough to physically react.

I created scenarios in his mind, scenes of betrayal, his first killing, whatever I could find in his mind or mine to create some scene. I was able to stir all those emotions in him and even get them to surface, but he always managed to hold onto enough control to stop himself from some action he was contemplating.

When I had run through the gamut of experiences I was able to come up with, I was exhausted. I brought him out of the trance and smiled at him as he stood swaying unsteadily.

"Sit, you're going to need some time to recover from all that," I said gently. I studied his face; it was drenched in sweat and his heart was still beating fast. "How do you feel?"

"Like you look," he said frankly, and I chuckled. He put his head in his hands and sat quietly.

"I still react in anger," he said sadly. He sounded a bit ashamed of this.

"You do, sometimes," I acknowledged, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You always had this rage in you against injustice and evil. But you were learning to overcome it and act from a position of strength. You haven't lost ground, Obi-Wan, not at all. Even when your anger overtakes you and you start to react to its goading, you find a way to pull back. That's what we need to work on the most, and find what triggers it so that we can disarm it."

He nodded quietly, and took a deep breath. I felt he was searching within, trying to find what specifically threatened his control over his anger – was it a sense of things spiraling out of his control, a specific threat to himself or others, or just uncertainty?

It could even be something physical, such as the adrenaline coursing through him during a tense situation. Once we identified it, we could work on a way to disarm that response.

I felt this was truly the last thing he needed to master – his final trial, so to speak. Everything else he needed to work on – well, life itself had taught him. A hard lesson, to be sure, but Obi-Wan had taken all the hurt and pain and turned it into something good.

We took a long break, and then we resumed sparring. We went late into the night, and we both were exhausted when we finished. We would not sit up this night talking; we were too tired for words, even. We crawled into our bunks and slept like the dead.

Before I fell asleep, I sent a mental picture of a sunset to Obi-Wan. I felt his gratitude come through the bond, and then he was asleep. So was I, just a minute later, with a smile on my face.

This time, Anakin was up before either of us, and thoughtful enough to bring us both a hot cup of kaffa. I groaned as I swung my legs over the bunk, for I hadn't worked that hard in ages. Obi-Wan opened one eye, and pulled the covers over his head, giving every impression that he was going right back to sleep. He hadn't changed. There was only one thing to do as I stood stretching and working the kinks out of my muscles.

I poked him in the ribs. Unfortunately, I poked him right in the middle of that rainbow bruise, and he sat up with a howl of protest.

"I'm sorry," I apologized hastily. "Let me look at that." I yanked his top off over his head for a closer look. The bruise was fading, even as it spread. "You never told me what caused that anyway," I scolded him.

"Let's just say my ribs and a boot ended up occupying the same spot at the same time," he said composedly as he slid to his feet and reached for his clothing. Before he could pull on his tunic, I turned him around and studied his back. Anakin was staring at Obi-Wan with new respect in his eyes.

"You were whipped, weren't you?" I choked out. When I had seen the marks before, my eyes had been damp with tears. Now, I saw more clearly. "A whip with some kind of spikes on the end?"

His back was etched with long vertical lines of red welts and white scars, many long healed but some; I was afraid, all too recent. I lifted a hand, trembling I noted absently, to touch them as if my touch could make them better - but I was afraid to touch them, afraid he would flinch under my hand. I didn't want to cause him pain.

Beside me, I heard Anakin suck in his breath and heard a soft, "wizard." That startled me, and I looked down to shake my head disapprovingly, but then I saw his eyes were wide with shock. That told me one thing for which I was glad – clearly, Anakin had not been so mistreated.

"Master, don't," Obi-Wan said, turning around and holding me by the shoulders, shaking me, softly commanding. "Don't make me remember, okay? I want to forget all that."

How could I say no? When I looked into his eyes, I saw only compassion, and I knew he wasn't asking me to forget for him. He had come to terms with it long ago. He wanted me to forget, for myself. I was still beating myself up, and Obi-Wan didn't want me to. He didn't blame me, and he didn't want me to blame myself, either.

He looked at Anakin, and while I stood helplessly clenching and unclenching my hands, he squatted down and thanked Anakin for the kaffa and gently sent him away to eat his morning meal.

"Let me put some bacta patches over the worst of the scars, then," I said, drawing a deep breath, fumbling for my calm center and finding it. "We'll make you all pretty for the ladies." I actually managed a smile at that.

He snorted at that as he stood up. "I well know the rule about attachments," he said darkly. "No ladies for me."

I snorted at that. I made sure Anakin was out of earshot, before I leaned close and whispered, "There is no celibacy requirement, you know. Just no attachments."

I actually embarrassed him. He turned bright red and mumbled something. I just grinned, and tried to remember if we had had this conversation before. He had been old enough, so we probably had.

Teasing him was fun, and helped keep my mind off the all too visible evidence of his ill-treatment.

"Maybe my girlfriend can get you a girl," I offered as I gently covered the worst of the marks with the bacta patches, and Obi-Wan twisted around to look at me, shocked, before he closed his eyes and chuckled weakly. He really thought for a minute I had a girlfriend. I felt smug, for it was not often I could shock him.

I had had my share of – encounters, shall we say – but none, of course, had reached girlfriend status. I thought Obi-Wan had been aware of this, but perhaps not. He was a bit of a prude and still young when I had last known him.

"How about one of the Queen's handmaidens?" I suggested. "Eirtae, perhaps Padme? They are wise and beautiful young women, and you're a healthy young male. Surely one of them must have stirred your blood?"

"It's not that I don't appreciate them, Master," he said slowly, blushing furiously. "But, well, it's not wise."

I then understood. Obi-Wan, when he loved, loved deeply. He would not have just a casual encounter with anyone, and any one he would be willing to get intimate with would be by then already too close to his heart, and therefore too close to a forbidden attachment. He would not risk it; being a Jedi was too important to him.

I nodded my head slowly to show I understood and would not continue to tease him on this subject, and laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

We didn't have much time to train this day, so I just ran through a few short exercises with Obi-Wan, with Anakin present to observe. We would land soon and the Queen would reveal her plan. It would be busy for a while; I didn't know how long until Obi-Wan and I would have another quiet period to just talk.

I had this strange need to just converse with him, and I sensed he felt a certain disquiet himself. He admitted as much to me, saying there was this "elusive feeling" tingling at him. He was far more attuned to the Unifying Force than I, and I trusted his instincts, for they had always been good.

I talked of Temple life, how his friends were doing and missions they had been on, who was knighted and who were yet padawans. I talked of the Council and Yoda in particular. I saw Obi-Wan's eyes smile at his mention, and I assured him that Yoda was anxious to see him, too.

I could almost picture their meeting: Yoda leaning on his stick, eyes soft, but voice stern: "Glad I am to see you, young Obi-Wan," all the while terribly pleased and happy and showing no outward sign of it except with his ears, and Obi-Wan trying to speak through a sudden lump in his throat.

Yes, I looked forward to seeing their reunion. They had a bond almost as strong as the one I shared with Obi-Wan.

I did hesitate before I spoke of the Council's refusal to accept Anakin for training, for I was still upset over that and not sure how I felt about speaking to Obi-Wan about it. He was affected by their decision, too, and none of us knew just what would happen if the Council changed its mind.

If the Council didn't knight Obi-Wan or allow him to take the trials shortly after our return, I was going to hurt Obi-Wan or Anakin, or both.

He listened quietly, showing no sign of distress, though he had to be troubled. I probed, just a light touch, and he was indeed concerned, though just as much for Anakin and I as for himself.

"You'll have to leave it to the Force," he said abruptly, getting to his feet and walking over to look out a port at the stars outside the ship. I got up and came over to stand by him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't upset, which surprised me. He had this sense of approaching events, and he was uneasy, he admitted.

"Don't give in to your fears, Obi-Wan," I admonished gently. He shivered, suddenly, but he nodded.


	12. Confrontation with a Sith

We landed not many hours later, luckily without incident. I still wasn't sure what the Queen had in mind, but she had Jar Jar led our small group to the swamp edge that I remembered. We waited while he swam to contact the Gungans in their underwater city.

He shortly returned, saying the city was deserted and we would have to look elsewhere, and assured us he knew where they were – another place, well hidden, a "sacred place."

Jar Jar was right; we found the Gungans and were escorted to Boss Nass' presence. The Queen began to speak eloquently about the need to free her people. I sensed she was making little headway. The Gungans and the Naboo were not on good terms, and the Gungans saw no need to risk their safety for the Naboo.

I was surprised when Padme pushed forward and announced she was the Queen, and the Queen only a decoy. I nodded. All the pieces were falling in place, now. Obi-Wan was confused, but hid it well, merely glancing at me to see if I was surprised or if I had known that.

The Queen dropped to one knee to make her plea. Appealing to the Gungans as she did, with humility and respect made the difference. The Gungans and the Naboo became allies.

The plan was made and revealed. It was a sound, though risky plan. The Gungans would fight the Trade Federation's droid army while the Queen and her band would sneak into Theed palace and capture Viceroy Gunray. Up until then, only the Queen and Gungans themselves knew of the Gungans army and war capabilities.

Naboo pilots would try to take out the Droid Control ship controlling the Federation's army. If they were unsuccessful, a captured Viceroy would be forced to deactivate the Droid Control ship in orbit.

One way or the other that droid control ship had to be destroyed or deactivated. Without it, the droid army would simply stop in its tracks. Until then, the Gungan army would have their hands full.

Once destroyed, the fighting would be over. The prison camps would be emptied, and the Naboo and Gungans would be free once again, and hopefully learn to live as friends, not indifferent neighbors.

I did warn the Queen that our mandate from the Jedi Council was simple protection of her person; Obi-Wan and I were not allowed to intervene in the fighting on other side's behalf as the actual dispute was still being debated in the Senate. She only nodded.

I turned to Obi-Wan with a smile and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Despite our mandate, I'm sure circumstances will compel us to fight unless we are very lucky. There will be a battle ahead of us, but you are fit and ready," I told him. "I have no fear on that score. If we _are_ forced to fight in defense of the Queen – Obi-Wan, I would rather have no other Jedi at my side. You have lost none of your skills."

"I am ready, Master," he said, his eyes shining at me. He was hoping we would avoid a fight, I knew, as did I, but he did not fear one. He was ready, as if the past five years had not scarred him.

We let the Gungans do their job of battling the droid army, as the Naboo, Anakin, Obi-Wan and I threaded the secret passages to enter Theed. We emerged into the great hangar itself, which is where I told Anakin to hide himself. He was too young to be involved in a battle, for my bones told me we would shortly be.

It came sooner than I expected.

The Naboo fighter pilots had run for their ships and hurtled into space. Now that they were off, we headed for the palace and the final step of our plan – capturing the Viceroy.

We were nearly to the great doorway, Obi-Wan and I near the rear of the group, when the door slid open and we were confronted by the Sith I had met before. I had described him to Obi-Wan, so he, too, knew what we faced.

Red and black tattoos covered his face, and yellow eyes gleamed from within the hood of his dark cloak. Clothed entirely in black, humanoid, he was like a dark version of a Jedi. Similarly clothed, but so opposite in his approach to the Force – he fed on darkness and we fueled ourselves with light.

As much as we respected and honored life, he revered death and destruction. I could feel his cold hate – a roiling, stormy wave of ice advancing to meet the warm glow of the Force that Obi-Wan and I tapped into. Where the two waves crashed, I almost expected to see steam rise.

This was no dark Jedi, no pathetic creature who had lost touch with the goodness of life. This was evil, this was hate, and this was Sith. There was no doubt in my mind.

"We'll handle this," I said calmly to the Naboo. I didn't have to look at Obi-Wan, for I felt him beside me, strong and sure. Confident. The past was truly gone and this was now. We were together again, in synch, ready to face what we must.

At the same time, droidekas rolled into the hangar and began firing at the Naboo. Blaster bolts flew through the air, the sound of hot ozone turning the air acrid and bitter. Obi-wan and I ignored that battle, letting the Naboo handle that as we faced the Sith, a Zabrek I now recognized as he shrugged out of his cloak.

We advanced, shrugging out of our own cloaks and igniting our lightsabers in readiness. The Sith ignited his two-bladed one and we stared at each other, waiting that final impossibly long second before true battle engages.

The Sith moved first.

Obi-Wan somersaulted over the Sith and attacked from the rear as I from the front. Even with two of us against one, it was an even battle. Obi-Wan and I found our rhythm and we drove the Sith into another room, though the Force whispered he was directing the battle, leading us to a place of his own choosing.

If so, he had chosen wrong, for we had him trapped, with nowhere to go but empty air.

Obi-Wan feinted from the left and I darted in from the right, but the Sith somersaulted to a catwalk crossing the immense space. Obi-Wan and I leaped after him and the battle resumed.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan was flying backwards into empty air, taken off balance and kicked into space. I had no time to worry about him, not in battle. I trusted Obi-Wan to save himself, I had to. I gathered the Force and backhanded the Sith and knocked him flying, following him. We battled ferociously; out of the corner of my eye I could see Obi-Wan regain the catwalk and come flying after us. A hint of a smile touched my eyes; I had known he would save himself, yet I was still relieved to see him.

I fought with furious, hard blows, taking the battle to the Zabrek. I was so focused on the fight that I failed to see where our fight had led us. I had chided Obi-Wan in the past for having too tight a focus, and now I had done what I had so often warned him against.

I would have to acknowledge my error to him after the Sith was defeated, or ignore his next lapse. It was only fair. Obi-Wan was always too well aware of what he considered his "failures," and I more often than not his lack of experience. It would do him good to know that even his master – a Jedi master – could get distracted or so deep in concentration that he lost the necessary field of focus.

I only had a brief time to think this, the few terribly long and incredibly short seconds spent trapped between energy gates. We had fought into a service passageway and not taken heed of the safety buttons to deactivate the laser gates cycling on and off.

I had just a few seconds more to catch my breath, for I was breathing fast now and almost winded. I was far more experienced, but the Sith was younger, and it was a hard battle.

The enforced pause allowed me to rest and I knelt in meditation. The air was red with shimmery currents of the energy blocking us all from each other, for I had seen Obi-Wan pumping desperately to catch up to me, only to skid to a sudden stop, trapped several gateways behind.

I could sense his anxiety and barely contained energy as he tried desperately to regain my side, all but urging me to wait for him to catch up.

The Sith was the first free; I the second when the gates opened. I rushed forward and we resumed fighting, with Obi-Wan staring anxiously on, for he had not had time to clear the passageway. He had barely stopped from barreling into the last energy gate, thankfully, he had.

The shock of lightsaber against lightsaber continued and my arm was tiring. The Sith swung, I ducked, and he came around in a full swing and pierced my chest. The shock of the killing blow took my breath away, and as I fell to my knees, I saw Obi-Wan's anguished face. I stared at him, willing strength into him as I slowly collapsed.

_You have to continue on. You have to live. Win this battle, and live, Obi-Wan. Live, for me, for yourself. Live, for I love you._

I would be everlastingly thankful that I had been reunited with Obi-Wan before my death – to know that my long mourned padawan was alive and that he was okay. That the promise in a fine young man had been realized in the fine man he now was.

He was a good man and a good Jedi. My padawan, my friend, and my dearest hope for the future. My legacy.

I crumpled to the ground as Obi-Wan surged forward and the clash of lightsabers told me that Obi-Wan was fighting well, holding his own. I could barely see, but Obi-Wan seemed to be possessed with unusual strength and I realized he was pulling rage from within.

I had never thought of this scenario to test his control – my death with him helpless to intervene – it would have helped him had I made him face such a scene as this, but it was too late.

Obi-Wan would have to battle both the Sith and his rage by himself; I could not help him.

Find your calm center, Obi-Wan; I implored him, my eyes hazy. Don't let my death in front of you allow you to give in to your rage. You are a Jedi, Obi-Wan. Remember who you are. Now, now is the time to be the Jedi I know you are.

I was too weak to do more than think the thoughts – I couldn't send them through the bond and I doubt if I had that Obi-Wan would have heard, in the heat of battle.

I groaned as Obi-Wan went flying out of sight, down into that hollow core of the room. I was ready to die, now, for my padawan was dead. For the first time that day, I had tears in my eyes, for I had witnessed my padawan's death. I had just found him again, and I had just lost him again.

At least, we would soon be united in death, forever together. These would be the last tears I would shed, ever. My tears, always, were for Obi-Wan, never for me.

I felt the Force being gathered in that room, the _snap-hiss_ of an ignited lightsaber – my lightsaber – and the sound of a body being cut in two. It meant nothing to me. I was ready to join my padawan in death, in the Force.

Forever together: a father and his son, two companions-in-arm, and two friends - bound by something greater than blood: bound by love.

I heard the soft thump of racing footsteps and felt myself gathered in shaking arms. It could only be Obi-Wan holding me. But he was dead! I had seen my padawan die. I must have missed something as I lay dying, and I remembered the surge of the Force and the sense that my lightsaber was being called to another hand.

Obi-Wan had saved himself. The Council had to see what I had already seen. Obi-Wan was ready. He was a knight in all but name.

I knew now I would never see his knighting ceremony, never hold his padawan braid in my hand, or stand by his side, knight to knight. At least I had told him how much I loved him. That, at least, was not left undone. I shuddered, for what if I hadn't told him? He would never have known.

"It's too late," I whispered, forcing my eyes open to look upon his face for the last time.

There were so many regrets in me. Chief amongst them was knowing how much time I had lost with Obi-Wan and how little time I had to get reacquainted with him before my death. Knowing the pain of abandoning him a third time, and Anakin for the first. It wouldn't be easy for them, but the path was clear in my mind.

I struggled to reach him; it was all I could do to touch a finger to his tears and brush one from his face.

"Train him, Obi-Wan. He is the Chosen One."

"Yes, Master," he mumbled as his tears dripped on my face.

There had been so many tears lately. I had hoped they were behind us. They were only behind me and I would not be there to comfort Obi-Wan ever again. He didn't _need_ my comfort, for his shoulders had always been strong enough to bear his own burdens. He was strong, but he had always accepted the comfort I offered him, for the burden was always lighter when shared.

_Forgive me…I love_….and my eyes closed upon darkness.

Obi-Wan was, again, alone.

**Epilogue**

Death was not my final end. My study of the teachings of the Whills allowed me self-knowledge within the Force, after my death. I was one with the Force, yet aware.

It wasn't until some time later that I knew I had, after all, held Obi-Wan's padawan braid in my hand as my body was reduced to ashes. It was perhaps the greatest gift my padawan had ever given me, next to his love and trust.

Obi-Wan had insisted that a least a part of it be placed there, even if his knighting ceremony had not yet taken place. Yoda had grudgingly agreed, and cut off a few inches of that freshly decorated braid with my own lightsaber, now Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan had carefully placed it within my hand and curled my fingers over it, before kissing my hand in final farewell.

I am so glad that I told him how much I loved him. At least, I left him with that, when I left him behind, again, until the day we would be reunited in the Force. I left him my love, and the Chosen One.

The future is his, now. I have no part in it. My story is over, and the future is out of my hands. It is now in Obi-Wan's capable hands.

Author's note: On another forum I was persuaded to pretend the epilogue never happened, so the sequel carries on from here with characters intact. It shall start out in Obi-Wan's POV as Tears of the Force II. I am currently working on a prequel to this story.


	13. Sequel note

The sequel has been posted as a separate story: Tears of the Force Book II.


End file.
